


Alice Silverstone: A Memoir of Magic

by StarryTreks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Magic, Witches, Wizards, hermione granger - Freeform, i'm shit at tags, i've been meaning to do this for ages, magical talking cat, ron weasley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8844493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryTreks/pseuds/StarryTreks
Summary: Alice Silverstone is a half-blood witch that lives with her family in the small town of Little Whinging. Over the years leading up to Voldemort's return to power, Alice and her twin sister Thalia, begin to unravel dangerous family secrets that will open old wounds and expose them up to unfathomable dangers. In a world where darkness is on the rise, can they escape it unscathed? Only time will tell.





	1. Impossible Things

The Silverstones were a quiet sort and never were much of a bother to anyone. David Silverstone was an attorney at a small private firm in downtown London; he was straight as an arrow, as were his convictions. His eyes were sharp and gray much like his prematurely silvering hair and not even the slightest detail ever went unnoticed by his watchful gaze.

Cassandra Silverstone was a part-time journalist and full-time mother- deciding against a career in order to raise her two twin daughters at home. She often took them to play at the nearby playground at Magnolia Crescent, to the dog park, the public pool, and sometimes she even took them to the lake to feed the ducks. She was a kind-hearted woman that would always impart to her daughters a sliver of adult wisdom shrunken down to teaspoon-sized servings so that they could understand- as all parents ought.

One day while the youngest twin, Alice, was off chasing some imaginary rabbit through the cattails near the lake, her sister Thalia asked, “why is Alice so strange?”

Mrs. Silverstone smiled and scooped her pretty cherub-faced daughter into her lap. She was no more than five at the time with a light sprinkling of freckles across her nose and pale blond hair just like her mother’s.

“She’s not odd, love,” Cassandra answered, “She’s just... different from you is all.”

“But she’s got imaginary friends, mama. She doesn’t even talk to any of the kids at school!”

“Lots of children have imaginary friends,” her mother said pointedly. “And you very well know that Alice is shy.”

“But why?”

“People are all different from one another; that is what makes us individuals. If Alice were exactly like you, don't you think that would get boring after a while?"

"I guess," Thalia muttered, still a little unsure. But those words resounded in Thalia’s ears for a very, very long time.

 

* * *

 

One Sunday afternoon when the twins were ten, Alice returned home from playing outdoors after church. Her dark colored hair was sticking out from the pearly pins which kept her thick hair off of her neck as she’d been scouting for exotic beasts in the hydrangeas again. Her eyes were bright and wild as she rushed into the living room with a small kitten cupped gingerly in her hands. The kitten looked sickly and quite hurt. It mewed in pain.

“Papa, papa...” Alice chirped, rushing over to her father who had not looked up from his newspaper since she stormed into the house. Mr. Silverstone folded the paper under his arm carefully and took off his reading glasses.

“What is it, love?”

“I found him by the fence in the backyard. He’s sick... can we keep him until he’s better? Pretty please?” Thalia’s twin pleaded, “I’ll take good care of him, please papa?”

Thalia stood up from the stairs where she was reading Thumbelina, and crossed over to her sister, peering curiously into her cupped hands. It was a black kitten, probably no more than six weeks old. Its fur was patchy and matted and its back leg looked mangled as if it had been bitten by something. If the kitten belonged to someone, they hadn't been taking very good care of it. 

“Your mum is allergic, but we can’t just let the poor thing die, can we?”

A big smile spread across Alice’s face and she looked to her sister, “Will you help me take care of him, Tally?”

Thalia nodded rapidly, “I’ll get granddad’s old chocolate box from the cupboard- we can turn it into a bed!”

Suffice it to say that the two girls took a liking to the small kitten straightaway. Its spunky personality began to shine through within the third day of living inside the house. True to their word, the little girls fed him milk and tuna fish for two weeks until the wound on its leg had healed.

By then, the kitten had grown quite a bit bigger and had taken a liking to the human house and its queer inhabitants.

Firstly, the kitten could not understand why the mister of the house always had his nose buried in the black and white paper on which he did his business. Secondly, he couldn’t understand why the two young girls he would play with were always in and out of the house so much toting heavy bags which they carried on their backs. He could not comprehend why the missus seemed to dislike him so much and made a horrid wheezing sound whenever he came near to her wanting to play.

So, the kitten took to solitude and quickly learned how to jump from tables to chairs without knocking over the china. He acquired the ability to sneak into the front yard through the dog door (the family didn’t even have a dog, so the kitten didn’t understand why they even had a dog door, to begin with), and a great many other things, too.

One day in early summer after the girls turned eleven, something strange happened while the kitten (now Sir Bentley Snugglebottom III) was curled up on Alice’s bed.

The kitten let out a yawn; “What a long day.” He thought to himself... or so he thought.

Alice started looking up sharply from her well-read copy of Peter Pan, and looked around, “Who said that?” Her voice fell oddly against the silence, and she pursed her lips worriedly. “H-hello?” The kitten padded over to her, his coat glossy black in the lamplight, and curled under her arm. “It’s ten thirty... maybe I’m hearing things,” She noted glancing at her clock on the bedside table. Alice snapped her book shut and set it on the table, turning off her lamp. “Goodnight, Bentley.” She said groggily, putting her head on her pillow and holding the kitten closer.

“Goodnight, Alice,” Bentley thought. But this time, Alice screamed.

Alice and the kitten stared at each other for a very long time the next day.

She'd spent the entire night hiding under her blankets from the voice that had wished her good night. It was the first of June and the warm sun streamed into the living room. The young girl sat cross-legged on the floor and the kitten was curled up on the rug in front of her, neither of them said a word.

“Can you... talk, Bentley?” Alice asked cautiously. The kitten only blinked at her.

“That’s absurd. Why would I be able to talk?” A cool sarcastic voice replied. Alice’s eyes widened; perhaps it wasn’t that Bentley could talk, but simply because... she could understand his thoughts?

“I can hear you, though,” She replied nervously. Bentley looked over at her and blinked in as much surprise as a cat could muster, and he stood and came closer.

“I suppose you’re right, but... this is quite disturbing the natural order of things isn’t it?”

“It seems that way,” Alice nodded. Thalia would have a fit if she ever knew about this. Her practical sister already thought she was bonkers anyway. It might be best to keep this detail a secret, too, “what should we do?”

“I’ve got no idea. Maybe you’re messed up in the noggin’?” Alice tried not to look offended, “it’s the only explanation that makes sense.” The cat went on, staunchly.

“Well... what about magic then?”

“Magic isn’t real, you silly girl! It’s make-believe.”

“I don’t know of any kind of science that could explain this.”

Bentley was quiet for a while, “Well... perhaps we can go in search of answers elsewhere, hm?”

“Mum says libraries are a good place to start looking for answers that need finding.”

“Well, then I daresay you should start looking there.”

 

* * *

 

And so Alice went directly to Little Whinging’s public library on Gatewell road after school like clockwork for the next week (and a day) at four fifteen. She got used to asking for assistance at the tall oak librarian help counter, over which not even the top of her head was visible even if she stood on her tip-toes. Alice rather enjoyed disappearing between the shelves of books and checked out many medical journals on insanity and self-diagnostics which Alice found to be much less helpful than she hoped. The girl returned to her oaken reading table near the large circular window overlooking  Little Whinging with a stack of books so tall that they nearly exceeded her own height.

There were books on animals, fairy field guides, and even though Bentley suggested against it; magic. But not the magic that consisted of cheap tricks and slight of hand, but real- true magic. Only the fairy field guide came even close to describing her dilemma. It went into detail about some humans that had the second-sight and could, on occasion, see fairies that would be otherwise invisible.

"But everyone has seen Bentley. That can't be right," she muttered to herself, closing the book with a sigh. Bentley's words echoed in her mind; _magic, pha! What nonsense!_ She was starting to believe he was right. Maybe she was actually crazy after all.

When she felt discouraged, she would look helplessly out of the window. Over the course of three days in a row, she spied the flapping of russet and brown wings of a bird which was widely believed to be nocturnal.

_An owl at this time of day? How strange._

That day as she was shuffling home crestfallen from another uneventful day at the library, she saw a frightening sight. Roosting on every open space of one particular house in a nearby neighborhood was an enormous flock of owls. So she hadn’t been seeing things!

Her curiosity got the better of her, so she came a bit nearer to more closely inspect the house even though it was very much out of her way. The neighborhood was called Privet Drive and a charm that nearly identical houses that lined the street. The fourth house on the street, however, which was covered in squawking owls (earning it some strange looks from passersby), stuck out like a thumb that had been stung by an angry hornet.

At first, Alice came no closer to the house than the small garden fence and she simply looked on in curiosity. Other than the auspicious cloak of owls, the house was painfully ordinary. A rustling of feathers from nearby roused her from her criticism, and a tawny owl with golden eyes alighted on the fence with a small square of parchment clenched in its talons. It glanced at her for a long moment, cocking its head at her almost in askance.

“Hello,” Alice managed uncomfortably. “I don’t suppose you can understand me, can you?”

The owl opened it’s mouth and cawed. Not to scare her off, but... to strangely respond.

“Then... why is it that you are here? It's daylight,” Again, the owl cocked its head at her, but this time, it flapped its wings and dropped whatever it had been holding at her feet.

She stooped to pick it up; it appeared to be addressed to an H. Potter who coincidentally lived in a cupboard under the stairs of this very house!

“Good Lord,” Alice muttered. “He lives in a cupboard!”

She frowned, the sender had to have been particularly close to this... Potter person to have such knowledge of their unfortunate living arrangements. Alice wondered what kind of person the sender might have been...

_A very strange social worker perhaps?_

The curious girl turned the envelope in her hands to see if the sender had given a name, but only a coat of arms was stamped on the envelope flap in green ink, under which was a rather strange Latin saying; “Never tickle a sleeping dragon.”

“Very odd,” she commented this time out loud, looking over to the owl. “You’re delivering this letter to H. Potter I’m guessing?” The owl cawed again, “Shall I help you?” She offered, shrugging. "This isn't the strangest thing I've ever done, believe it or not. "

If the nocturnal beastie had any objections, he didn’t voice them or make any attempt to stop her as she approached the door.

She rang the doorbell; moments later, a large, round, red-faced man answered. He didn’t think to look down at her until she cleared her throat. When he saw she was holding the letter, his expression turned livid.

“Excuse me, sir? I would like to give a letter to an... H. Potter if you please.”

“Is that so?” He scoffed, reaching for the letter, she put it behind her back.

“You are not this Potter person,” Alice answered, looking between the tall man’s legs to spy the cupboard under the stairs which was in her line of sight if she bent over a bit.

“And how do you know that?”

“Well, sir, Potter is small enough to fit into that cupboard, and you certainly are not.”

“And what does that have to do with anything?” The red-faced man growled, his mustache quivered with rage.

“Because the letter is addressed to an H. Potter who lives in the cupboard under the stairs,” as if on cue, the cupboard door swung open with a clatter to reveal a tall lanky boy with messy jet black hair, poorly repaired full-moon glasses, and oversized clothing whose posture had the habitual stoop of someone who lived in a cupboard.

The boy had to have been the letter’s addressee- he couldn’t have been too much older than herself. Something glimmering like lights on a Christmas tree sparkled in his big green eyes when he saw her in the doorway holding the letter- something like hope.

“Are you H. Potter?” She cried, the boy nodded furiously, his mouth half open as if he were about to say something.

"There is no Harry Potter here!" The large man growled under his large mustache, clenching his sausage-fists angrily when he saw the boy emerge.

"That's my letter!" The boy shouted angrily. "You can't keep taking them- it's obstructing the mail system!"

The large man turned back to Alice with his face pinched with splotchy red anger, “get off of my property!” He barked at her, grabbing the envelope from her hands and tearing it in half, then in fourths, and in eighths, scattering the pieces in the wind. Alice could only watch on in absolute horror.

“Wait, Uncle Vernon, please-” the boy protested, crossing over to the door quickly. The mean fat man, now Uncle Vernon, clenched his jaw and slammed the door in her face. Alice’s shoulders slumped, and the tawny owl from before alighted on it with gentle consoling talons as if to say; “don’t feel bad. We’ve been at this for days.” After the tawny owl returned to his roosting place on the garden fence of Number Four Privet Drive, Alice returned home- only to find her mother and father conspiratorially convened in the dining room.

“Hello, darling,” her mother smiled, waving her over to the table, “something came in the mail for you today.”

“For me?” She inquired.

Her father nodded, pulling out a chair at the head of the table for her. In the center of the table lay a singular square bit of parchment- on which was addressed to her in a familiar, spidery scrawl.

_Alice Silverstone_

_The Room with the Circular Window_

_7 Magnolia Road_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

“Mum, why didn’t I get a letter?” asked Thalia, as a sister would if her sibling had received some high commendation while the other was left without.

Alice and her parents read through the letter’s curious contents before her father put a comforting hand on Thalia's shoulder, “I believe it’s something that could not have been helped, dear.”

“A wand? A cauldron? Is this some sort of joke?” Alice muttered, flipping through the three pages- one of which was signed by a Professor McGonagall in a scrawling script that suggested an accomplished air.

“Not at all. My friend Janine has a daughter about your age who has also been invited to attend Hogwarts this year,” she replied with a smile. “Hermione is her name- it’s a wonder I didn’t introduce the two of you before!”

Thalia could tell that her sister looked skeptical.

“Hogwarts is a bit of an odd name, isn’t it?” Alice asked, “what sort of school requires a wand and a cauldron anyway?”

“It’s a school for witches and wizards,” Cassandra Silverstone answered. “A school which I attended when I was a girl. After I finished my schooling, I decided to return to a world without magic indefinitely.”

“You're a witch!” The twins exclaimed at the same time, and then came the barrage of questions.

“Have you ever turned anyone into a toad?” “Can you tell the future?” “Do you have a magic wand?”                                            

Their mother chuckled, but their father didn’t seem very surprised in the least, “girls, girls- one question at a time!”

“How come you never told us?” Alice asked. Her parents exchanged worried glances, before her mother responded.

“I did want to tell you both, ” she said carefully holding her hands open so that her girls might take them. “But I feared doing so might make you objects of ridicule. I chose to live as a normal person, a muggle, but it does not mean you must.” 

The last thing the Silverstone girls were was angry with their mother; in fact, they were more curious than anything else.

“Why would you do that?” Thalia asked. “Magic would make life so much easier!”

“But for everything magic makes easy, it also makes more dangerous,” her mother cautioned. “For the life of me, Tally, I can’t fathom why you’ve not received a letter as well. I’ll have to write the headmaster to ask for your records.”

Thalia blew her cheeks out and turned to her befuddled twin, “if it really wasn’t a mix-up, you better show me some cool tricks when you get home from school!” She said grumpily, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Okay,” her twin nodded uncertainly, glancing down at the curious list of items once more. 

Mrs. Silverstone wrote a speedy letter, peered around outside for a stray owl, found a stately tawny one perched on the top of her husband's small red car, and tied the envelope to its ankle. The owl tipped its head at her and, with a beat of its enormous wings, it flew off to deliver the response- along with an inquiry about Tally's own admittance to the mysterious school that taught sorcery to young witches and wizards.

Their mother told them about the school while Bentley peered at them lazily from his sunny windowsill (obviously eavesdropping); about the four founders, the houses that all first years are sorted into, and about the plethora of curious subjects they taught there. She told them about a wizard sport played with four balls and seven players called Quidditch. The rub was that three of those balls were enchanted, and the game was played on broomsticks!

Quidditch was taken quite seriously at Hogwarts. Their mother had even played when she was a student there many years ago, so Alice decided that she'd like to try out for a house team- if by some wild chance she'd inherited her mother's talent for the sport. 

The wizarding world was kept a secret from the muggle one (the world inhabited by non-magic folk) by secrecy spells and tight lips. It was crucial to uphold that secret at any cost, their mother had also explained. She'd also told them that it was absolutely forbidden for any wizard or witch under seventeen to practice magic out of school for that very reason. An untrained witch or wizard was extremely dangerous to the safety of that secret, to themselves, and to others- muggle or otherwise. 

Mr. Silverstone had been silent throughout this talk, but his expression hinted that he already knew everything. 

"So dad," Alice said conversationally once their mother had finished, and was looking a little apprehensive. "Are you a wizard, too?" 

"I'm afraid not, but I did have a friend named Frank Longbottom who went to Hogwarts. Met him on a camping trip to the Forest of Dean when we were lads; we were with our parents, so they hit it off and we were stuck with each other all weekend. Great man- he introduced me to Quidditch. We went to loads of matches, but I had to lay low because I was a muggle; technically, I wasn't even supposed to be there. I didn't meet your mum 'til the Pride of Portree versus the Kenmare Kestrels match. You should have seen her- your mum was a beater for-" Mrs. Silverstone went very pale and jabbed her enthusiastic husband in the ribs and laughed. He cringed and rubbed where she'd jabbed him sheepishly.

"Well now, those were the days," she exclaimed, trying to change the subject... a little too obviously to escape Alice's notice. It was curious that her parents never really talked about how they met, but her mother had been a professional Quidditch player- and those were pretty intimidating shoes to fill. 

“Mum, where do you suppose we’d be buying all of my school supplies? I don’t imagine that they’d sell any of these things in London," Alice asked her mother that night as she tucked her daughter into bed. 

A discreet smile slid over Cassandra’s face, and she replied with a cryptic; “perhaps not the London you’re familiar with.” Pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead, Mrs. Silverstone left and closed the door quietly behind her.

"Bentley," she said tiredly. The small cat had been listening to them all day leaped from the floor and curled up on the pillow next to her. His eyes glinted green in the dark. "Looks like it was magic after all," she said before drifting off to sleep. 

Rather than dreams of a wonderful magical world, she saw the young boy with the unkempt black hair, baggy clothing, bright green eyes, and poorly repaired glasses who looked pale with fright after Uncle Vernon shoved them both into the cupboard to punish her for trying to deliver him his letter. The small dingy cupboard started to shrink all around them; there was no escape- the door was locked. Outside, Uncle Vernon let out a high cold laugh that didn't seem to belong to him at all.

A few days later on a Tuesday afternoon when Mr. Silverstone was given a day off from work, the Silverstones went off to London to buy Alice's school supplies. Alice gripped her excited twin’s arm tightly as they passed through a decrepit pub that was marked with a sign that was near impossible for her to read. She would have missed the old place if her mother hadn't pointed it out.

“The Leaky Cauldron,” Mrs. Silverstone explained. “It’s just through here.”

 The small, dimly lit pub seemed to be in a bit of turmoil and was filled with people that were wearing their clothing inside out. Some wore funny cloaks that looked like they could have come out of a magical dragon-something-or-other trading card game that her male classmates were fond of.

“I can’t believe that Harry Potter just walked into my pub!”

“The boy who lived- Merlin’s beard, I’d never have thought-!”

_Harry Potter?_  Alice pursed her lips in thought. Why had that name seemed so familiar to her? Then she realized; he’d been the poor boy under the stairs she’d met the other day- and the unfortunate subject of last night's nightmare. The girl looked up excitedly to tell her mother that she had met this apparently famous young man but clamped her mouth shut when she saw her mother’s steely expression. Her father squeezed his wife's hand tightly, and they walked into a small dead-end alley just behind the pub.

From her pants pocket, Cassandra took out a long, intricately carved stick that looked as if it were made of mahogany and approached the tall brick wall and tapped thrice on a brick just above the tin trashcans with her wand which made the wall shake and move. Thalia and Alice were wonder-struck, but their father hardly seemed surprised.  

“You’ve still got it, love.” When he pulled his wife in for a kiss on the cheek, she giggled like a school girl. Alice and Thalia made faces at each other, sticking their tongues out in feigned disgust. Beyond the wall that had now turned into a tall archway was a bustling market place full of vibrant shoppers and shops with even more vibrant names.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley,” Mrs. Silverstone proclaimed, flourishing her hand for dramatic effect.

“Wow!” Alice and Thalia exclaimed at the same time. At last, they agreed on something.

It was as if they’d stepped into fairyland!

“David, why don’t you and Tally get something sweet from Fortesque’s? We’ll be about shortly!” Thalia was disheartened; she’d wanted to see all of the interesting shops, too.

“Don’t worry,” Mr. Silverstone told his daughter conspiratorially. “I might be a muggle, but I know my way around Diagon Alley! Shall we go?”

Thalia grinned, nodded, and took his hand and tossed a look back at her twin who looked as if she had a lot on her mind. What was wrong with her? This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to their family, and it wasn’t even happening to her! 

Once Mr. Silverstone and Thalia disappeared into the throngs of witches and wizards, Mrs. Silverstone cleared her throat, to get Alice's attention. “Let’s collect your books first, shall we?” She said with a grin, though most of her attention was elsewhere; absorbing the aura of a world she’d left behind twelve years ago. She steered her equally- if not more- distracted daughter into an absolutely crammed bookshop where a weathered sign with the name Flourish and Blots swung over the doorway by a late June breeze.

The store looked like a library, lined from wall to wall with old books, and new books- and books of ever size imaginable. Some filled to the brim with old runes, others written in plain English, and others that had no words at all. Once they found all of the books they needed, her mother let Alice pick around for a bit while Mrs. Silverstone went to the section of the store for cooking charms.

Alice was in the magical history section letting her fingers linger over spines of curiously titled tomes when she stumbled over what she thought was a pile of books left carelessly in the middle of the aisle, but she quickly discovered she was wrong. Rather, it was a young girl with frizzy brown hair who was sitting down in the aisle pouring over a book of her own! “Oof!” “Hey!” the girls shouted in unison as Alice went sprawling.

“Oh, no- I’m so sorry,” Alice cried, her ears smarting in embarrassment, scurrying off of the frizzy-haired girl who was sitting up, rubbing the back of her neck. “Are you alright?”

“I think I’ll live,” she said, a little indignantly. “I accept your apology.”

“I was just a bit distracted by all of these books,” she said, helping the girl pick up the pile of books that she had been inspecting before their unfortunate collision, storing her own under her arm. She stood, brushing off her black skirt and argyle sweater, and extended a hand to Alice. She thanked her gratefully and took the other girl’s hand. The frizzy-haired girl smiled, revealing a pair of slightly too-large two front teeth.

“Me too,” she responded as Alice helped her take her school books to the register. Along with familiar titles from the book list included in the Hogwarts, admittance letter included a book titled _Ptolemy’s Ponderings_ : _The Life of the Greatest Wizard in Ancient Egypt_ by Harmon Finney.

“Ptolemy was a wizard?” Alice asked the girl in wonderment.

“Many famous ‘muggles’ were wizards especially in ancient times,” the obviously brainy girl responded as they set their books down on the checkout counter.

“That makes sense- especially if you think about high priests and shamans,” Alice ventured carefully. Smiling brightly, the girl nodded furiously as she paid the cashier two gold coins and a handful of silver ones for all of her schoolbooks. “It’s so nice to see that someone else is interested in magical history! I’m Hermione by the way. Hermione Granger,” she said cheerfully, as the shopkeeper wrapped the books in brown paper and tied them together with string.

“Alice Silverstone,” Alice responded as Hermione thanked the shopkeeper and took the books. 

After, the two girls searched the shop for their parents. Hermione and Alice found them outside chatting, Alice's mother had already purchased all of her schoolbooks and was holding them close to her chest as if she were afraid someone was going to steal them. 

"It looks like they found each other after all!" Her mother smiled, taking notice of them. Hermione's mother had brown hair that might have been curly had it not been pulled into so tight a bun, and her father's hair was just beginning to turn gray. They looked extremely nice.

"I'm Alice," she smiled reaching out to shake their hands.

"Your mum's told me about you and your sister! It's a shame she didn't receive a letter, too." Hermione's mother said.

"I agree- it would have been more fun if she had," Alice agreed sadly. "But perhaps it was a mistake." Everyone gathered seemed to be in agreement.

"Well, unfortunately, we've got more to buy, so- I'm so sorry Janine, Edmund. Perhaps we can have tea sometime?"

"Certainly- of course. Perhaps we can take the girls to the train station together on the first," Hermione's father, Edmund, suggested.

"An excellent idea," Janine said, smiling. "It would be good for Hermione to have a friend to talk to on the train."

The adults made their farewells, and Alice turned to Hermione with a sad smile, "It was good to meet you- so I'll see you in a few weeks?"

"Definitely," Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "I can't wait!"

Once they’d been to the seamstress to get Alice's school cloaks, they stepped into to the apothecary. The shop had a foul odor. The strange and boarder line repulsive nature of some of the things that floated around in the jars on the shelves kept Alice's interest, but kept her far enough away from them that any chance of breaking something were slim. When she saw the unicorn horns in a long silver box with a purple velvet cushion, she did a double take. They were white, but when they caught the light just right, they gleamed silver; the horns were priced at a hefty twenty-one galleons a piece. Soon, Alice and her mother were out of the shop with a few basic potions class ingredients and supplies including eye of newt, infusion of wormwood, and a pewter cauldron.

“It seems all that’s left to get is your wand. It's just up the way. Every witch and wizard in Britain have gotten their wands from Ollivander's for centuries.” Mrs. Silverstone explained, so they made their way through clumps of cloaked shoppers with her packages on a trolley. In the meantime, Alice kept her eyes peeled on the off chance that she might clap them on Harry Potter. 

Ollivander’s Wand Emporium looked its age; it was dark and dingy. The air was heavy with dust and something that smelled vaguely of peppermint and electricity. Despite the bustling crowds outside, there were only two other people inside of the shop; a young blond boy and a tall willowy woman with pale blond hair who donned a green velvet cloak. Her son was holding a wand aloft while wind coiled itself around him out of nowhere as if someone had opened a window in a storm. 

“Hawthorn and unicorn hair- surprisingly springy. Ten inches long- an excellent wand,” an older man said from behind the old dusty counter that looked as if it would wither away if someone leaned on it enough. 

“Of course it is,” the young boy said snidely. Alice made a face at his rudeness while his mother paid for his wand from a pouch inside of her cloak. She thanked the older man as he wrapped the merchandise and handed it to the boy who almost snatched it out of his hands. 

The mother and son walked towards them to get to the door, but the moment the woman saw Alice's mother, she stopped short- recognition and relief flooding over her features. 

“Cassie,” the woman said as if she were happy about seeing an old friend but restrained and quite sad. “It’s been years.” 

“It has been too long, Cissy.” 

Alice looked from her mother to the other lady, Cissy, with keen interest. Her expression softened, placing a hand on the shoulder of the boy standing in front of her. “This is my son, Draco. It will be his very first year at Hogwarts,” Draco’s eyes were not quite as kind as his mother's, and his face was sharp like a spearhead. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Draco. This is Alice’s first year at Hogwarts, too.” The boy's cold blue eyes fell on Alice and he held out his hand for her to shake. 

“Hi,” she said, shaking his hand. He nodded in response. They both hoped that their mothers would scoot them along on their separate ways, but they’d began to talk instead about school days gone by. Draco and Alice were left to make awkward conversation. 

“Your mum and mine were school friends I guess,” he said.

“I think so,” Alice replied. 

“Which house do you want to be in?” He inquired. “I hope I’ll be in Slytherin myself. My entire family’s been in Slytherin house for years.” 

“Oh- well, I’m not sure yet, it's hard to say,” She answered honestly.

“Well,” the boy responded in a slow drawl. “I guess we can leave that decision to the sorting hat.” Alice nodded wordlessly. Her mother had explained that a magic hat sorted first-year students into one of the four houses; Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. She was extremely nervous about it but tried not to let it get to her.

"Do you like Quidditch?" He asked her, changing the subject.

"I think I'd like to try out for a house team this year," she answered, a little more excitedly.

"It's very hard for a first year to get onto any of the house Quidditch teams," he grinned. "Have you ever even flown on a broom before?" Alice told him that she hadn't. "I've been flying for a while now." He said helpfully, "I could give you a few pointers sometime."

Before Alice could thank him for the offer, their mothers started to guide them away from each other. 

"You and the rest of your family really should come to the manor for dinner over the holidays, Cassie," the kindly cloaked lady told her with a smile. "We'd love to have you!" 

"Of course," her mother called after them as they slipped out of the door, but not before Draco gave Alice a well-meaning smile. 

"I'll see you on the train?"

"Of course," she called after him. She'd already made two friends today and briefly met the elusive Harry Potter last week. Perhaps they could all hang out together, and that is a prospect that made Alice even more excited about the school year.

"Did you like Draco?" Her mother asked once Cissy and her son were out of sight. 

"He seemed nice enough," Alice commented, "though... a bit pompous. Will we join them for dinner during the holidays?" 

Her mother sighed quietly, "I'm afraid not, unfortunately. I care for Cissy, but her husband-" she shuddered and shook her head, steering her once again to the counter where the clerk was busy putting away a few of the unselected wands into the dusty shelves. "Never mind, dear. Mr. Ollivander, hello!"

Looking up from his sorting, a wide smile broke over his wrinkled face, "Cassandra Burns! It's been years, my dear. Cherry, dragon heartstring, rigid, eleven and three-quarters inches, yes?" 

"That's right, but it's Silverstone now," she informed him kindly, her hands tight on Alice's shoulders. "I'm not here for myself today. My daughter Alice starts at Hogwarts this year." 

"Ah," Mr. Ollivander said, looking down at Alice for the first time. His eyes were a pale milky blue, and they scared her a little. It was almost like he was peeking into her soul, and it had her feel extremely uncomfortable. "Then, Miss Silverstone, let's get you measured!" A measuring tape on the counter floated over to her- all by itself. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Oh, which hand do you write with?" Her mother whispered in her ear helpfully. 

"I'm left-handed," Alice answered.

"Lift your left arm, young lady." Mr. Ollivander instructed, she obliged and let the measuring tape take the length of her arm, her height, and about a dozen other measurements while Mr. Ollivander made mental notes to himself before telling the measuring tape to stop. He plucked it out of the air, placed it on the counter, wandered into the shelves for a moment, and returned with a black rectangular box. 

"Now, Miss Silverstone, it is the wand that chooses the witch or wizard," Alice's heart was beating quickly as the wandmaker opened the box to reveal the wand inside. "This one is ash," he explained. "Dragon heartstring, nine and a quarter inches." He said as he handed the wand to Alice. About as soon as he did, he took it back. "I don't think that's quite right."

Disappearing amongst the shelves, he returned with four more boxes. Alice tried a hornbeam wand with a dragon heartstring core, an ebony wand with unicorn hair, a willow wand with a phoenix feather core, and a hazel wand with a unicorn hair core. Each of them was snatched back from Alice because none of them seemed to produce the right effect.

"Ah, perhaps that one... picky old thing," he muttered, going back again to find a wand that was sure to work. When he returned, he was holding a blood red box which he placed on the counter and opened. "Maple, phoenix feather core, ten and a half inches- reasonably pliant." 

At this point, Alice was worried that none of the wands in Ollivander's shop were going to choose her. She hesitated, but took the wand out of the box anyway. Warmth shot up her arm and throughout her entire body as a gust of wind coiled around her like a giant invisible snake- her dark chestnut curls flying in every direction. It even began to lift her into the air, but her mother grabbed her before she could fly off.

Alice hadn't been afraid- in fact, she was simply happy to have a wand. 

"My word," the wandmaker commented. "That wand has been in this shop for two hundred years, and it seemed like it would never choose anyone. It seems like it was holding out for you!"

Her mother paid ten galleons for the wand and Olivander wrapped it in brown paper and tied a shiny black ribbon to it and wished her the very best at Hogwarts, and then they were off once more- this time in search of her father and twin sister. 

Diving into their ice cream sundae provided by the kindly Mr. Fortesque, Thalia, and her father approached a glowing shop called Quality Quidditch Supply. It was swarming with kids around her own age, and some a great deal older- they were all jostling about to get a good look at something that must have been extraordinary. As Thalia and her father pressed through the crowd, they laid eyes on a very well polished broomstick.

"It's the fastest model yet!" A young wizard said to his friend, their noses were pressed against the glass with eyes filled with yearning. The broom was so sleek and fancy looking that Thalia would have felt awful about sweeping a floor with it. 

“It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” Her father sighed. “I wish I were a wizard just so I could play Quidditch. You know, your old pa used to be a right good rugby player?” Tally shook her head; she’d really had no idea! But she tried to imagine a younger, ruddy-faced version of her dad in a leather helmet with scabby knees- she giggled. “Hey now,” he grinned, nudging her. “You wanna pop in for a peek?” Thalia nodded in wonderment- even though she would probably never leave the ground on a broomstick. 

Thalia and her father went inside of the broom shop, their eyes wide and shining with wonder.

“Here to look at the new broomstick we’ve got in stock?” A freckly red-haired young man grinned, putting his hands on his aproned waist. 

Thalia's father nodded, inspecting the broom interestedly, “It's a beauty! Looks fast, too.”

“Indeed! The Nimbus Two-Thousand is the fastest model we’ve ever carried to date! You know, Galvin Gudgeon was in just the other day to purchase one!”

“Not from the Chudley Cannons!” Her father gasped in surprise.

“The very same! Say, sir, would you… like to take it for a spin?” Her father looked at the broom longingly, but he sighed.

“I’m afraid I can’t,” he said glumly. The man nodded understandingly, his glance shifting to Thalia who was eyeing the broom curiously.

“Perhaps your daughter,” he said encouragingly. “She looks like she’s got a chaser’s build- very tall. Is she a student at Hogwarts?”

Mr. Silverstone cringed, “you see-“

“David!” His wife gasped, Alice in tow as they rolled the trolley into the shop. “I knew you’d be here.”

“They’ve got a new broom!”  He explained excitedly.

His wife looked at him sadly and then at the shopkeeper, “I’m afraid we won’t be buying a broom today-“

“Aren't you… Cassandra Burns?” The shopkeeper started, recognizing her the moment she looked at him, “weren't you a beater for the Pride of Portree way back when?” Cassandra went white, but before she could deny the fact, a drove of young people came into the shop demanding to look at the Nimbus Two-Thousand which distracted the shopkeeper just long enough for the Silverstones to make their escape.


	3. Trevor

The last few weeks of summer came and went and suddenly, without even a whisper or warning, it was the last day of August. This meant that Alice would soon be boarding the train to Hogwarts and indelible excitement soon gave way to apprehension which hung over the twins like storm clouds. For the last few weeks, they poured over Alice’s school books and pretended to cast spells at one another with fallen sticks for wands (Alice's had been stowed away for safekeeping). As the sun sunk to the horizon, a tawny owl- quite different from the stately one that had delivered Alice’s letter- alighted on top of the mailbox outside with an envelope clutched tightly in its talons.

The twins exchanged glances and crossed over to the preening bird. Alice untied the string carefully from its leg and found that it was addressed to her mother, but it wasn’t from Hogwarts. It was sealed with a purple wax seal which had a large letter M stamped firmly on it. Bentley leaped from the roof and trailed after the sisters as they went into the house to see the contents of the letter.

Their mother was typing furiously on the family computer, reading a line of text carefully when Alice and Thalia returned from outside- Alice holding the owl-delivered message carefully.

“Everything alright, girls?” She asked them, looking away from the screen for a moment. Their mother was an at-home journalist for The Telegram, and she was fact-checking online to write an article on soaring grocery store prices in Great Britain.

They nodded and Alice handed her mother the letter.

“Ahh, this one’s from the Ministry of Magic,” she commented, flipping the envelope over to open it with a swipe of her finger under the wax seal. “I asked about Thalia’s record- to see if she’s emitted any accidental magic, and…” she scanned the letter with her sharp blue eyes for a moment, and her expression dropped. “I’m so sorry, Thalia-“ she answered. “It wasn’t a mistake. The headmaster requested they send your file directly to me, but there wasn’t a file to be found.” Thalia was heartbroken and her shoulders slumped, Alice felt her twin’s anguish and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“It’s just not… not fair,” Thalia muttered, shrugging her sister off and storming up to her room. After seeing Diagon Alley, Thalia had foolishly begun to hope that she might have belonged to that world of magic, too.

Thalia refused to leave her room even though her mother promised to make steak and mash for dinner, it was her favorite. She was impossible to persuade when she was this angry.

Leave for the clinking of metal against porcelain and the occasional squawking that came from a magpie that made its home in one of the hydrangea bushes in the backyard, a guilty quiet fell over the dinner table.

“How could this have happened?” Mrs. Silverstone sighed, “she should have been a witch.”

Mr. Silverstone sighed, and squeezed her hand tightly, “I know, love. I know.”

A churning in Alice’s stomach made her dizzy and a little lightheaded and it wasn’t from being hungry. She looked down at her partially finished plate and thought that she bring one up for her sister- who was likely hungrier than she. Without a word, Alice left the table and brought her sister’s dinner up to her on a tray.

Thalia’s door was shut, but she could hear sniffling inside from all the way down the hall. Alice knocked carefully, balancing the tray on her arm.

The sniffling stopped almost immediately, but was followed with a petulant, “who is it?”

“It’s me,” Alice answered quietly. “I have your dinner if you want it- it’s still hot.”

Silence again, then the sound of socks padding across hardwood before the door opened a sliver. “Steak and mash?” Thalia grumbled, only one of her irritated, puffy green eyes was visible through the door. Alice nodded.

Thalia took the tray gingerly, the door opening a bit wider. “Thanks,” she said closing the door before she could get out anything edgewise. It was going to be a very long year.

* * *

 The next morning, Alice tried convincing her sister to come with them to see the Hogwarts Express at King's Cross Station, but Thalia refused- claiming that she wanted to arrive at St. Thomas’s on time for the first day of classes. Offering words of apology which fell on deaf ears (or so she thought) Alice returned to her room to fetch her backpack, meanwhile, Mrs. Silverstone misplaced the car keys. She scoured the house for them until she gave up and used magic.

“Accio car keys,” she said, and with a simple wave of her wand, the keys zoomed from some unknown place in the house and into her outstretched hand. The keys were pocketed discreetly- just in case someone was watching. Alice, who had seen everything from the highest point of the stairs, couldn't help but smile. She didn't linger long before picking up another parcel to pile on top of the growing heap that sat in the driveway. Mr. and Mrs. Silverstone helped put Alice's surprisingly heavy plum-colored trunk into the car which had been out in the hallway all morning just in case Alice had forgotten to pack anything at the last moment.

Bentley was keeping out of the way as much as he could, and felt strangely energized for the prospect of an adventure that didn't consist of stalking the neighbor's bulldog in the night or chasing rats near the creek. He skipped on Alice's heels with nimble paws and jumped into the back passenger seat, waiting leisurely with his legs folded under him until his doddery family was ready to leave. Once Alice took her seat and fastened her seat belt, he relocated to her lap which was far more comfortable, thank you very much.

“A witch of all things!” He remarked to himself as he curled and uncurled his tail. “How preposterous! It might all be quacky though-”

The small brunette glared at him, “it’s not quacky!” She snapped quietly to her sarcastic pet as her father drove them away from  Little Whinging in the family car.

“You don’t know that,” Bentley said in his cold logical voice that only Alice seemed to be able to hear. “It sounds pretty quacky to me!”

“If you'd seen Diagon Alley, you’d believe me-” Alice paused, realizing that her parents were starting to notice that she was talking to her cat. She brought her voice down to a whisper, “anyway, mum went there, and she turned out alright.”

“Hm,” the cat droned. _If she were really magical, she’d have found a way to cure her allergy of me._ He thought.

“I heard that,” Alice muttered.

* * *

The Silverstones arrived at the bustling station thirty minutes before the eleven o’clock train to Hogwarts was to leave, so they’d decided to wait for Hermione and her parents by the entrance. Alice’s nerves were starting to wear her thin. She picked at a loose thread on the skirt of her pale blue dress and wished that her twin were there. Thalia would like Hermione immensely, she thought sadly.

When the Grangers finally arrived pushing Hermione’s trolley filled with school things, Alice perked up.

“Hello!” She called enthusiastically, waving to Alice.

“Hermione!” Alice squeaked, running over to meet her. “I’m so glad you’re here- I’m so nervous!”

“Don’t be,” she said encouragingly. “You’re going to be fine- we can play trivia on the way. You know- to keep our minds off things.” Alice, on the other hand, was thankful for the promise of a diversion, especially after last night’s disappointing conclusion. She hated to leave her sister after without some sort of reconciliation.

Once they reached platforms nine and ten, Hermione dug into her skirt pocket and took out a small ticket that proclaimed that the Hogwarts Express was to leave from platform nine and three- quarters at eleven o’clock sharp. It was nearly quarter past ten.

“Platform nine and three- quarters?” Alice asked, at a loss. Bentley had curled up for a cat nap between Alice’s leather backpack and an oddly shaped parcel that was likely the cauldron she’d purchased in Diagon Alley a few weeks before. At the mention of the impossible platform, his ears perked up, and Alice could have sworn she heard him scoff.

“It’s right through there,” her mother told her, pointing at a metal ticket box that divided platforms nine and ten. “You have to do it discreetly so that other muggles won’t see.”

“We’ve got to run at a ticket box?” Alice frowned. She could have sworn she heard her luggage gasp, but it was probably just her imagination.

“It’s an extremely complex enchantment,” Hermione explained helpfully. “It won’t hurt, the entrance is disguised. Not to mention they used a dimensional spell on it, too. Fascinating, really!”

“Oh, I see,” Alice said, still a little perplexed. “Okay then, let’s do this!”

“All together then?” Mr. Silverstone smiled, nodding at Hermione’s parents comfortingly. They seemed just about as confused as Alice.

“Follow five beats behind us,” Mrs. Silverstone instructed. “We have to look inconspicuous.” And so, with a deep breath, staring unwaveringly at the very sturdy and frightfully solid ticket box, Alice and her parents ran for the barrier.

* * *

 

She expected to feel something somewhat solid as they passed through the illusion, but instead, they were greeted by a blast of steam from a large scarlet engine as chattering voices filled the air. “Oh- it’s nearly time!” Mrs. Silverstone said, glancing at the clock. She wrapped her daughter in a close hug. “I love you, sweetheart. You’re going to love school.”

“I love you too, mum. I just wish Tally were here.”

“I know,” she sighed, patting her daughter’s head as they got nearer to the train. Her father stepped in to hug his daughter tightly after helping the busy bellboy take a few parcels off the top of Alice’s dark purple trunk. Her father fished something out of his coat pocket and handed it her- it was the train ticket.

"Don't lose it and make sure you give it to the conductor when he makes his rounds, yeah?"

“Okay," she smiled, hugging him tightly, "Thanks- and... tell Tally I’m sorry, won’t you, dad?”

“Of course I will,” he replied, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Now go and get settled in, and have a good year. We'll write you as often as we can!” In the hullabaloo, Alice didn’t realize that someone or... something... had crawled out of her trunk and disappeared into the crowds of other children clamoring aboard the train. Bentley was too busy avoiding being stepped on to notice anything out of the ordinary.

She and Hermione found a compartment near the back of the train with only one occupant; a pudgy boy with incredibly large teeth and a haircut that did him no kind favors.

“Do you mind?” Hermione asked. The boy shook his head and stammered a response as the girls sat down across from him. After they waved out of the windows to their parents until they disappeared down the great brick tunnel, the girls sat back down in their seats. It was then that Alice realized that a great warty toad was sitting on Neville's lap. Alice recoiled instinctively, and Bentley, who was perched on her shoulder at the time, hissed at it- to which the toad gave a nonchalant croak.

“Oh, Ben-” Alice scolded. “Be nice!”

“Sure,” he said venomously. “Be nice to the frog. He’s got a right foul look!” The toad only stared at the cat with disinterest.

“A bit cliche, isn’t it?” The boy managed, eyeing Bentley cautiously. “A witch with a black cat?”

Alice laughed, cheeks blazing, “You right, I suppose. I never thought about it before. By the way, I’m Alice Silverstone.” She held out her hand for the boy to shake.

“Oh, Neville. Neville Longbottom,” the boy responded, shaking her hand firmly. Dad always said that you could tell a lot about a person from the strength of their handshake.

Thinking of her father reminded her of where she'd heard this boy's last name before. “Say, is your dad’s name Frank, Neville?” Alice began with a smile. His face went pale, and his expression turned worried.

“Why do you want to know?” Blurted Neville defensively.

“Well,” Alice said carefully, not sure what to make of his response to her question. “My dad knew him when they were lads, and I wondered if he’d been here to see you off.”

Neville was obviously uncomfortable talking about his father, “N-no,” the boy whispered. “He wasn’t.” Alice immediately felt horrible, and she spared a glance at Hermione who was shaking her head.

“I’m so sorry if I upset you,” said Alice, trying to preserve what she could of this sinking ship. “Oh, Hermione, don’t you have trivia with you? We could play a game to get our minds off things for a while.”

“Wait- you mean muggle trivia?” The boy asked, interested- Alice’s faux pas about mentioning his father seemingly forgotten.

“Oh, yes,” Hermione said enthusiastically, taking the game box off her lap, and opening the lid to reveal the board game, pieces, and cards. “It’s great fun if you know the answers!”

“Wow, a board game without magic! That sounds like something to see!”

Once the girls had broken out the game, they showed Neville how to play it. Surprisingly, he was able to get a few of the questions right, particularly, the ones about plants. All seemed to be well until Neville’s toad, Trevor, started invading Bentley’s personal space. Alice's sardonic cat was curled up on Neville’s side of the compartment for another nap as the children played their game. They were so absorbed that they didn’t even notice the standoff that was going on between the two animals. The next thing they knew, a gut-wrenching yowl shattered their concentration, bringing their attention to Bentley and Trevor.

Neville's toad panicked and darted for the compartment door just as a girl yanked it open and he made his escape!

“Oh, no- Trevor!” Neville howled bewildered, standing up- sending cards and game pieces everywhere. They’d placed the game on their knees between the three of them like a makeshift table. The girls were upset that their game had been ruined but were even more shocked at the unfortunate turn of events. “I’m sorry, I have to find him- I’ll be back!” He nudged past the girl in the doorway who looked upset.

“I just came to see-”

“Help me find his toad!” Hermione instructed the girl. Then, turning to Alice who was cleaning up the board game, she said; “you, too. It was your cat that scared him off.”

“Right,” Alice sighed, tossing a stern look at Bentley. “You’d better apologize, you loathsome git!” Bentley peeked at her through a half-lidded eye and closed it again. She huffed at him as she swept out of the compartment, “fine. Be that way.”

They looked high and low for the toad named Trevor, but he’d been so afraid of Bentley, that it seemed they’d never find him. The girls interrupted older students that looked in enraptured with their schoolbooks, younger students that were talking excitedly about going to Hogwarts for the first time. She’d even managed to find Draco.

He was sitting with two other boys; Crabbe- who was round and mean-looking, Goyle who looked far too old to be eleven. At least Draco looked somewhat happy to see her.

“Hi,” Alice smiled, waggling her fingers at him while Hermione went off to check another compartment with the other girl whose name was Susan,“we’re looking for a toad- my friend lost his. Have you seen it?”

Draco laughed, “a toad? No, we haven’t. Tell your  friend to use this as an opportunity to get a more useful pet!” The boys chortled at Draco’s rude jab at Neville, and Alice scowled at them.

“Don’t be so mean, It was a gift from his grandmother.”

Draco’s smile twisted into something far crueler, “I’ll bet she’s a crazy old bat, too. I almost feel bad for your friend. What was his name again?”

“Neville Longbottom,” Alice said, eyeing his friends who were still snorting.

“Unfortunate name,” Draco drawled. “Anyway, you disappoint me, Alice. I thought you’d pick better friends.”

Before Alice could respond, Hermione popped her head in to take a survey of the compartment. “Do they-”

“They haven’t seen Trevor,” Alice said, disappointed in her would-be friend. “I’ve decided to sit with Hermione and Neville.” She said to him stiffly, “I’m not in the business of making fun of others.” She closed the compartment door in the wake of a smirking Draco.

Hermione, Alice, and Susan returned to their compartment, but to Alice's great shock, there was already someone sitting down. Someone that definitely hadn’t been there before. The girl was blond-haired, wore a green windbreaker, jeans, and familiar grubby tennis shoes. She was petting Bentley who was asleep on her lap.

“Sorry, everywhere else was full,” she grinned, waggling her fingers at them.

“The more, the merrier,” Hermione said smiling stopping to introduce herself, sitting down across from her. Susan did the same but sat down next to the new girl without question. Alice’s mouth was still dangling wide open.

“How did you-”

“The trunk,” she told her with a wide grin.

Hermione frowned at their odd exchange, “do you two know each other?”

The girls looked at Hermione nonplussed, “she’s my sister,” they said at once.


	4. Stowaway

Hermione looked as if she’d just seen a ghost, “b-but you’re a muggle! Oh no- this is _very_ bad!” Thalia’s grin faltered. “You understand that your memories will be erased and you’ll be sent home if you’re found, don’t you?” 

“I just wanted to see it- once.” Thalia frowned dejectedly. Bentley purred, rubbing his furry face on her hand which had stopped scratching him behind the ears. 

“Is there any way she could see Hogwarts without being found out?” Alice asked Hermione. She didn’t want her sister’s memories to be wiped, her friend pursed her lips doubtfully. 

“None that I know of,” she answered. “Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the wizarding world. Muggles passing by would see old ruins, so I doubt she’ll be able to see anything _real_ once we get there.” 

Alice’s twin let out another sigh, and Susan placed a hand on her arm offering her a sad smile. “We’ll do what we can, of course. We’ll hide you long enough until someone can come to take you home.”

Thalia smiled at the other girl thankfully. 

“I’ll send a letter to mum once we get there,” Alice said, reassuringly. Her sister looked at her for a long time with an unfathomable expression. “I really am sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you, you know,” Thalia said. “It’s hardly your fault that I’m a muggle.”

“Well, well!” A voice started loudly at first, “a muggle on the Hogwarts Express!” The girls looked up to see who had spoken in horror. They discovered that it wasn’t one person, but two; a set of twins with red hair and freckles, and they were both smiling broadly. 

“Which one of you is it?” One of the boys asked.

“Please don't tell anyone!” Alice cried. 

“Tell anyone?” The other said, offended that she might even insinuate the idea. 

“Of course not! A muggle has _never_ snuck onto the Hogwarts Express before- this should be loads of fun! So, which of you is it?” The first twin repeated. 

“It's me,” Thalia said after a brief moment of silence. 

“That’s grand! Fred Weasley,” one of them said, shaking her hand enthusiastically. 

“And I’m George,” the other said, shaking her other hand. “So, you want to see Hogwarts without being caught and wiped, eh?” Thalia could only nod. “Well, you’re in luck! This is particularly our specialty!” 

“Breaking school rules and about six or seven wizarding laws?” Hermione scoffed. The twins exchanged knowing looks. 

“We’re just helping a fellow troublemaker in need,” Fred said reasonably. “You don’t want her to get in trouble with the Ministry of Magic, do you?” 

Hermione pursed her lips and shook her head. The boys sat on opposite sides of the compartment to discuss details of Thalia’s escape. 

“Now,” George said, putting the shades down over the window. “This will need to be done carefully and by upperclassmen such as ourselves. We’ll cast the fidelius charm on the one that wants to be her secret keeper. Who wants to volunteer?”

Alice’s hand went up without even thinking about it, “I’m her sister after all.” She said, putting her hand down sheepishly.

“Excellent,” the boys said at once.

“The fidelius charm!” Hermione cried. “That’s really advanced magic-“ 

“And helpful if you’re trying to be sneaky,” Fred grinned. “Now, the fidelius charm works like this; the person or object’s invisibility to others is dependent on the will of the secret keeper. As long as the secret keeper doesn’t tell anyone about the existence or location of the person or object they're trying to hide, no one else will be able to see them.” 

“What if someone else that isn’t the secret keeper knows about me and decides to tell?” asked Thalia.

Fred shook his head, “only the secret keeper’s divulgence of the truth will reveal you. As long as your sister keeps her mouth shut, you will be safe. Of course- everyone that already knows about you will be able to see you, so don’t worry. You won’t be completely alone.” 

Thalia smiled, “why would you do this for a person you don’t even know?” 

“Like we said,” George grinned. “You’re a troublemaker in need! We can’t turn our backs on our own kind. So- without any further ado,” he said clearing his throat, taking his wand out of his sweater pocket. The girls exchanged glances with one another. 

“You two have to grab each other’s forearms,” Fred said. Alice and Thalia did as instructed. “Give your names- for the record.” They gave them their names, a little worriedly. George nodded solemnly and tapped his wand against their hands. 

“ _Fidelius_ ,” George said, and a silver web shot out from the tip of his wand and coiled itself around their hands. “Do you, Alice Silverstone, vow to keep secret your sister’s location and in doing so, make her invisible to the human eye for as long as you remain silent about her whereabouts?” 

“I do,” Alice replied. 

“Then, I proclaim you secret keeper of the identity of Thalia Silverstone, and if you should divulge her situation to anyone that is unaware of her, she shall be revealed to all.” An eerie quiet fell over the compartment as the silver web vanished. Nothing seemed to have changed at all... and then Neville returned to the compartment. 

He looked flushed and out of breath from scouring the train for his elusive toad. His eyes widened upon seeing the multitude of people that were now crowding the compartment. The Silverstone twins snatched their hands away from each other and George pocketed his wand. 

”Well,” George said quickly, “our job here is done. We’re headed back to our seats. Nice to meet you, Alice.” 

Alice nodded, but she did not miss Fred’s wink which was aimed at Thalia. Her sister colored, and stared down at her feet. Once the Weasley twins had left, it was only the five of them- but as far as Neville was concerned, there were only four of them.  

“What was that all about?” He asked the girls suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” Hermione asserted unconvincingly as Susan scooted over a little so that Neville could sit beside her. 

“They were just telling us about a spell,” Alice started.

“A memory spell- to make it easier for you to remember the things you read for homework,” Hermione said, more convincingly this time. Neville still seemed skeptical, but he returned to his seat. 

“Well, alright,” he said, resigned. “Still no sign of Trevor?” 

“Not a one,” Hermione confirmed sadly. “Rotten luck, I'm sorry Neville.” 

Susan put a hand on Neville’s arm comfortingly, “don’t worry, Neville- I’m sure he’ll turn up!” 

“I wish they’d taught you a spell that helped you find things,” the boy sighed. Then, Alice remembered the spell her mother used to find her car keys that very morning! She took her wand out of her dress pocket and thought for a moment. Neville sat at attention, just as the all too visible lightbulb went off in Hermione’s mind. 

“ _Accio_ Trevor the toad!” Alice said, flicking her wand as she’d seen her mother do. Suddenly, a shriek was heard from further up the train. Alice leapt to her feet to throw open their compartment door just as Neville’s toad zipped frog-legged down the aisle. The look on Neville’s face was one of relief when Alice snatched the toad out of thin air. Bentley looked up from his place on Thalia’s lap and batted an sordid eye as his owner returned Trevor to Neville’s waiting hands. 

“Wow- that’s so useful!” He cried. "Thanks, Alice." 

“I wonder why I didn’t think of it before,” Hermione noted approvingly. “Well done! Standard book of spells, chapter four. You did your reading!” 

“The Standard Book of Spells was fascinating,” Alice agreed, putting her wand away. “My sister and I-” she started, but Thalia caught her gaze and smiled cautiously. “Well, my sister loved reading it with me.” She finished a little awkwardly. 

“We know you miss her,” Hermione said as sadly as she could, patting her hands that were folded over her knee. They tried not to look at Thalia who was snickering under her breath just as a round older lady with a trolley full of the most outlandish sweets Alice and Thalia had ever seen came down the aisle. 

She stopped at their compartment with a wide smile, “anything off the trolley, dears?” She asked them cheerfully.

“Two cauldron cakes and a pumpkin pasty, please,” Neville said, handing the witch a handful of bronze and silver coins. 

“A box of worm gummies,” Susan answered, handing her money as the witch dispensed her wares to Neville. 

“Nothing for me,” Hermione told her. 

“Um,” Alice started, analyzing the delicious looking sweets with curiosity. 

“Get a chocolate frog for me,” her sister told her quietly. Neville didn’t seem to have heard her- nor did the older witch. 

“Two chocolate frogs and... a licorice wand,” Alice said, reaching into her pocket to pull out a gold coin her mother had given to her for snacks. Once the older witch was gone, they twins opted for the chocolate frogs first. Tearing into the oddly shaped package, one frog leaped out of each box, colliding with each other in midair. Neville gasped.

“Where on earth did the second one come from?” He demanded.

The girls exchanged worried glances; “I guess mine had two chocolate frogs,”  Alice grinned with a shrug as they hopped off down the aisle past the compartment door that was open just a sliver. It didn’t seem like Neville believed her, but he didn't say anything else on the subject. 

“Who’d you get?” Susan asked when Alice looked down to inspect the small card that was left in her hand. 

“Morgana Le Fey,” she told her, reading the inscription at the bottom of the beautiful witch’s portrait. She had piercing green eyes and a small mysterious smile. Morgana seemed to almost... _move_ \- and then, with a swift wave of her hand, the witch vanished from the portrait. “She’s gone! She moved!” Alice cried in surprise. 

“You were raised in a muggle household, weren’t you?” Neville asked. Sheepishly, Alice nodded.  “Wizard pictures are enchanted.” 

“Wow,” Alice whispered, turning the card over in her hands. “Cool.” 

“I got Newt Scamander,” Thalia said, turning her card over. “He studied magical creatures and stuff in America or something.” 

The girls all nodded, interested- but they were afraid talking to Thalia might raise Neville’s already heightened suspicions.

“Why don’t we take a walk?” Susan suggested. “You know- to let other first years know that we’ll be arriving soon.” 

“An excellent idea,” Hermione agreed. It was a welcome excuse to talk freely with Thalia away from Neville who, they were sure, would be the first to tattle. 

The girls spend the next twenty minutes wandering the aisles, talking quietly among themselves as they poked their heads into compartments to tell people that they’d be arriving at Hogwarts shortly. Alice made it a point to introduce herself to everyone they visited. To her utter surprise, she happened upon the elusive Harry Potter himself! "It's you!" 

The black-haired boy’s eyebrows went up in surprise upon seeing her, while his red-haired friend looked between the two of them, flummoxed. 

“You tried to give me my Hogwarts letter,” Harry recollected, with a grateful smile. “I hoped I would see you here! I’m Harry Potter.” 

“I know, your Uncle… might have mentioned it.” Harry colored profusely, “I’m Alice Silverstone.” She said quickly, reaching out to shake his hand. 

“I really am very sorry about that-“ The boy started, taking hers. 

“I’m hardly concerned about how he treated me, Harry,” she said dismissively, with a wave of her hand. Her face turning a little more serious. “It’s just- are you alright over there?”

Harry shrugged, “the Dursleys are awful, but they’re all I’ve got.”  

She wanted to ask about his mother and father but expected that their story must have ended badly if he had no other family left. 

“I’m so sorry,” Alice said sadly. “My dad is a lawyer- he can get you out of that house if they’re mistreating you.” She reached into her pocket trying to find a spare bit of paper- she happened upon the chocolate frog trading card of Morgana Le Fey who had appeared in her portrait once more, and took out her wand. “ _Scribba!_ ” She said, making a quick swishing motion with her wand. Nothing seemed to happen, but she tried writing with the tip like she’d write with any pen or pencil. In the dark purple ink her wand produced, Alice wrote down her father’s name, their home landline, and her home address and handed it to the black-haired boy.

“I… really appreciate it, but I don’t know how pleased they’d be to hear I called a lawyer on them,” he said carefully, taking the card from her to inspect it. “You live on Magnolia Road?” 

She nodded and told him the story about how she’d found him in the first place. The red-head didn’t speak until she finished.

“Blimey,” he said finally. “Must’ve gotten pretty bad if there was a whole flock of ‘em.” 

“It was a sight to see, for sure,” Alice replied with a chuckle, eyeing all of the candy they had yet to eat. “Well, I leave you to your sweets. I’ll see you both at the sorting!” 

Just as she and the invisible Thalia were about to leave, Harry called out to her. “Alice?” She paused, and peered back into the compartment curiously raising her eyebrows in askance, “which house do you think you’d like to be in?” 

Pursing her lips to think about it seriously, she shrugged, “I dunno yet, I like to be surprised.” 

“Brilliant,” Harry’s friend muttered. “I just hope you’re not in Slytherin.” 

 

When they arrived at the castle, the sun was setting on the horizon turning the clouds Alice’s favorite shade of pink. Excitement and chatter filled the air as the older students departed from the rest of them.

“Come and sit at Gryffindor table with us once you get in,” the Weasley twins told Thalia, who was still holding on to Bentley, right before they were spirited off by a couple of other upperclassmen. “It’ll be safer.” 

“Firs’ years! Gather ‘round,” a voice boomed, scaring most of them out of their wits. The man who had spoken was maybe eight feet tall, and was extremely wide- he was practically a giant! Some of that might have been due to his bulky clothing and his huge black beard that covered most of his face. Shiny black eyes that looked like beetles shone in the light of the lamp he was carrying from under a mop of black hair. 

“Hullo Hagrid!” Harry called to him. 

“Harry,” Hagrid nodded, before addressing the group of first years again. “We’re to be taking boats to the castle, now- four to a boat if yah please.” She, Hermione, Susan, and Neville made a group- and since no one could see Thalia anyway, she squeezed onto their boat, too. 

The castle was a gorgeous affair- lit and alive against the fading sunlight. Inside, it was even grander- so grand was it in fact, that Alice felt utterly insignificant in the sea of first years beneath an ancient towering ceiling. The entire castle was lit by candles and torches.

"Can you see it, Tally?" Alice whispered. 

"Yes," her sister replied, her eyes not wavering from the castle for a moment. "And it is beautiful." 

Was her sister really a muggle? Hadn't Hermione told them that muggles would only see ruins? These thoughts were placed in the back of her mind when a tall severe looking witch greeted them at the top of a grand staircase. Before the giant man took his leave, he had called her Professor McGonagall, which meant that she was the very same witch that had written her Hogwarts letter!

All of the first years grew silent for her welcome speech; she seemed like the type of person that commanded respect- and got it without question. After she said her piece, she lead them through a pair of heavy wooden doors and into the Great Hall. 

If Diagon Alley was fairyland, the Great Hall was heaven! The ceiling was full of stars and candlelight, and four great oak tables were filled with students of all ages where an assortment of fine china and porcelain plates that were waiting to be filled with sumptuous food. Excitement and fear filled Alice’s stomach until she caught sight of her sister who walked beside her while looking up at the ceiling in utter fascination. 

“It’s enchanted to look like the night sky,” Hermione informed them. “I read it in _Hogwarts: A History._ ” 

Just beyond the four tables was a dais upon which sat another long oak table that was occupied by older witches and wizards. _The professors_ , she supposed. 

Professor McGonagall approached a small stool that sat just in front of the teacher’s table- on top of which sat a very old and crumpled wizard’s hat. The gathered around and waited; Alice’s curiosity was piqued. She wondered what they could be waiting for until the hat began to sing. 

_How curious,_ thought Alice exchanging a look with Hermione who looked nervous, but extremely eager. Harry and the red head stood a far distance from them, so she could offer them no boost of morale. 

“I’m going to catch up with Fred and George,” Thalia whispered, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “Good luck!” She said, before moving through an unseeing crowd over to where Fred and George were sitting- with a spare seat open right next to them. Thalia sat down and gave her twin an encouraging thumbs-up to abate her nerves, Alice nodded discreetly- still on edge.

Once the hat had stopped singing, Professor McGonagall held a piece of parchment aloft. 

“Now, when I call your name, please come forward, place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.”

One by one, her peers were called; Susan was sorted into Hufflepuff, Hermione, Neville, and the red-haired boy (whose name was Ronald Weasley- coincidentally the younger sibling of the troublemaking twins that had helped her sister on the train) into Gryffindor, Draco into Slytherin (as he predicted when they’d met), but when Harry got up to be sorted, a hush fell over the entire hall. A wizened wizard with a long, white beard and golden half-moon spectacles behind the faculty table sat up a bit straighter and leaned forward with interest. 

There was a long, tense pause before the hat finally shouted, “Gryffindor!” which gained much jubilation at Fred and George’s table.

“We got Potter, we got Potter!” The twins cheered as Harry went over to join them.

“Alice Silverstone,” Professor McGonagall called, the hall went quiet again. The white-bearded wizard still wore an expression of keen interest. 

Alice felt more alone than she ever had in her life- only she and the handsome black boy that had been with Draco on the train were left to be sorted. Taking a deep breath, the young witch approached the stool with blood pounding in her ears, her legs were so shaky that she thought she might fall on her face in front of everyone. She sat down with a plunk and placed the hat on her head. 

_Ah!_ The hat droned, making Alice jump. _Another difficult mind, I see. Hm... and a great and dangerous secret. You cannot hide this from me._

Alice pursed her lips, the nerves still grating against the back of her skull. _Could the hat read her mind?_

_That is generally how telepathy works._ The hat replied staunchly. 

_Do you know my secret?_ Alice asked the hat.

 _Your sister cannot be here,_ the hat said. 

_She only wanted to see the castle. Is that a crime?_

_Yes,_ the hat responded. _I must inform the headmaster-_

 _Please,_ Alice thought frantically, gasping aloud by accident. _She'll leave right after the sorting. I don't want her to get in trouble with the Ministry of Magic. I take all responsibility for this. It was my fault after all._  

 _Hmm..._ the hat droned, doubtfully and thoughtfully. Draco locked eyes with her from under the brim of the sorting hat. He smiled meanly at her and mouthed _"Hufflepuff"_ under his breath. Clenching the stool with her fists she shot a glare right back at him, and her fear and nerves dissipated. 

_Put me in Slytherin,_ she told the hat. _I need a reason to go over there so I can punch Draco Malfoy in the face._

The hat chuckled- which was far odder sounding that it seemed.  _For that, I’m almost convinced that Gryffindor would be a good fit._ The hat mused, _a brave soul, a studious mind, an honest heart, fair, and friendly- to mostly everyone. I sense much diligence and resourcefulness, too- and talent! My, my. You’re going to be something._

Alice colored, looking down at her shiny black shoes. The hat was being nice... she wasn’t all that honest at all, was she? 

Her sister sat on the edge of the bench looking at her nervously. Alice _had_ to protect Tally- no matter what.

_I dunno-_ Alice thought before the hat cut her off. 

_You’ll see soon enough. Now, where to put you…_ Alice chewed on her bottom lip- waiting on his decision. “Better be... Hufflepuff!” The hat cried.  _Now,_ it added silently before Professor McGonagall could pluck the hat from her head. R _emember to send your sister home immediately on the Hogwarts Express- it leaves for London in an hour. That is the condition for my silence. If I tell the headmaster, they will give you veritaserum and force you to reveal her. Believe me, you don't want to start off here on the wrong foot._

_I will._

She was a little disappointed that she hadn’t been sorted into Gryffindor with Hermione, Harry, and Neville, but at least she had Susan. The Hufflepuff table clapped politely as she placed the hat back on the stool and hurried over to it. The head boy and girl of Hufflepuff house shook hands with her- both of which seemed very nice, and Alice plopped down next to her friend who gave her a big hug. 

Slytherin table was right next to theirs and in consequence, she could feel Draco Malfoy’s mean blue eyes burning holes in the back of her head. Coloring a shade of red that might have given Harry’s horrible uncle a run for his money, Alice refused to look around because she knew that he was only going to be mean- and rub in the fact that she had actually been sorted into a house, which she would come to know later, as the butt of many a joke at Hogwarts. 

“I told you you’d be in that wimpy-left-overs excuse for a house- I say we get rid of it entirely.” Draco drawled. 

“You’re sure talkative this evening,” Alice said flippantly, not even bothering to turn around. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you’re worth the effort it would take to actually turn my head to look at you.”

Before Draco could offer a biting retort, the professor with the long white beard stood up and crossed over to an intricate gold podium. 

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts,” he said, and the Great Hall went so quiet that you could have heard a feather drop. His blue eyes sparkled in a a way that Alice was sure they didn’t know that he was old; it was as if she were looking at the Great Wizard Merlin himself. “I must remind you all that the forbidden forest is- of course- off-limits, and that the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to anyone that does not wish to die a most painful death.” He let the last sentence settle ominously before he continued. “Before we begin the feast, I’d like to offer you a few words to reflect upon this year. And they are as follows; nitwit, blubber, oddment, and tweak. Thank you.”

With a wave of the headmaster’s hand, a most incredible spread appeared in front of them. There was glistening ham, mashed potatoes, turkey, pudding, and anything else you could possibly think of. 

“What on earth?” Susan chuckled, as volume returned to the hall following the old professor’s odd speech. 

_Painful death? Nitwit, blubber, oddment, and tweak?_ Alice cringed, _that had to have been the worst welcome speech she’d ever been given._

“Headmaster Dumbledore is a bit eccentric,” the head girl said with a giggle. “It’s refreshing sometimes. Don’t think too much on it- this is normal.” After a moment of uncomfortable silence, an unfamiliar first-year spoke up. 

“Justin Finch-Fletchley, first year,” the dark-haired boy across from Alice said, reaching out to shake hers and Susan’s hands. They introduced themselves, too. “Which classes are you two most interested in taking?” He asked, enthusiastically. “I can’t wait for charms class myself.” 

“Transfiguration for sure,” Susan quipped. “I want to turn the neighbor’s cat into a tea cozy so that she’ll stop terrorizing my Labrador.” They laughed, but it reminded Alice of her own cat. He was with Thalia, fortunately. He wouldn't be happy to hear that part of Alice's school curriculum could potentially turn him into something far less autonomous. 

“What about you, Alice?” Justin asked her. 

She paused, trying to return to their conversation, “I-I think defense against the dark arts sounds interesting.” 

“That’s Professor Quirrell’s class,” a handsome blond-haired upperclassmen sitting next to Susan said. “August Lemons, prefect,” he said with a grin, flashing his badge at them proudly. “Defense against the dark arts is tricky, but if you’re really interested, Quirrell has seen quite a bit. I heard he fought off a whole vampire coven when he was in Albania.”

“Vampires!” the trio gasped in awe. 

"First years, welcome to Hufflepuff house!" A voice cried, as a near transparent form of a chubby man in a medieval monk's ceremonial garb hovered above them. He held a goblet in his ghostly hand, and Alice nearly fell out of her chair in surprise. 

"Don't worry," Justin assured her, "it's only the Fat Friar- he's the ghost of Hufflepuff house. There are tons of ghosts in the castle." 

"Sorry if I gave you a fright," the ghost said cheerfully. "We've been known to do that." 

Alice laughed at his joke, the tension gone. "I'm sorry that I reacted so poorly, that was very rude of me."

"Don't think about it, dear girl. Eat, drink, be merry! And welcome to Hogwarts!" With that, the Fat Friar bounced off to talk to some students near the end of the table. 

Before Alice could even start eating, there came a sudden flapping from the ceiling. From behind an innocent white cloud appeared a russet colored owl with a bit of lined paper in its talons. It alighted precisely in front of the headmaster who was taking a particularly long drink from his goblet at that particular moment. 

Professor Dumbledore frowned, setting the cup aside, and took the letter before providing the owl with a single silver sickle. The bird flew up and away once more as the wizard read the letter. His expression turned dark and he looked up, letting his sharp eyes fall on her. 

Blood froze instantly in her veins. _Oh, no._  


	5. Talking Flames

 Terror seized Alice as if a winter’s chill had somehow gotten into her bloodstream. There was no way headmaster Dumbledore could suspect her. The magical knowledge necessary for a feat such as this was far too advanced for a first year without training to pull off. However, if that letter was from home, then her parents must have realized that Thalia had never come home from school today.

      How could she have been such an idiot? Why had she allowed it to go this far?

     The headmaster was speaking to a stout woman dressed in a dark green cloak that looked as if it were made of a giant veined leaf, and she shook her head. Alice tried to pay attention to the conversation her friends were having about this year’s Quidditch prospects for Hufflepuff house; apparently, they were grim at best.

     “When are tryouts?” Alice asked, hoping to distract herself from the notion of being caught.

     “First years aren’t allowed on house teams,” August Lemons told her sadly. “School rules.”

     “Oh,” Alice said disappointedly. She hadn’t known that. “Perhaps I could just practice with the team this year, then? I wouldn’t play in any games, but-“

     August smiled and clapped a hand on her back, “now that’s the fighting spirit we want! Julie and I are supposed to be going to the village for drinks this weekend. I’ll put in a good word!”

“I appreciate it,” Alice smiled gratefully. If she said that the thought of mentioning her mother’s name hadn’t crossed her mind, she’d be lying- but she wanted to get a space on the team through her own merit, not her mother’s.

     She reluctantly helped herself to some of the delicious looking ham and green beans, wary of Dumbledore’s suspicion. Her mouth was half full when she felt a tap on her shoulder; it was George with Thalia and Bentley in tow. The cat pounced onto Alice’s lap with an enthusiasm that could only be out of anticipation for another cat nap.

     “What's the plan for getting your sister home?” he asked her in a low whisper.

     “The train," Alice replied, rehashing the hat's idea. "It hasn’t returned to London yet, but it will soon. Can you make sure she’s on it?"

     George nodded, "Of course. In the meantime, you need to get to the owlery to send word to your mum and dad.” Susan’s interest had been piqued, but she stayed focused on her dinner so as not to give them away. Alice nodded. “We’ll be off before someone suspects.”

     “But the headmaster-“ Alice started, trying her hardest not to look at the old wizard. “Hurry, George- and thank you,” she told him. Alice could tell that her twin felt guilty for the trouble she caused, but the glint in her eyes suggested that she’d do exactly the same thing if given the opportunity to do it over.

     “I’ll see you at Christmas,” Thalia told her sister.

     “Don’t get into too much trouble,” Alice said quietly.

      They said their goodbyes, and George Weasley and her sister left the Great Hall. Dumbledore, to Alice’s great relief, didn’t notice. He was too busy talking in a low voice to a stout looking woman with an olive green crooked witch’s hat.

     “August,” Alice said cheerily to the older student who was stuffing his face with cranberry sauce. “Would you mind horribly telling me where to find the owlery? I’d like to send a letter.”

     The boy dabbed his mouth with a napkin, “an urgent message?”

     “Yes, a bit.”

     “I have one thing better. We’ll wait until the feast is over- so lay back and enjoy yourself.”

     But Alice couldn’t. She was far too nervous. He’d stopped looking at her for now, but what would happen if he asked for her to stay after the feast was over? Panic made her wish that she were invisible. Breaking rules and being dishonest weren't generally things she liked to do, but she had to protect her sister. It wasn’t like she’d hurt anyone. Dinner seemed as if it would last forever, but like most things, it came to an end. Students slowly filtered out of the Great Hall when the headmaster tutted and shoed them all to bed.

     “Hufflepuff house, follow us if you would!” Claire Hedgewood, the head girl, called waving her hand as they made a beeline towards the door. Suddenly, a rogue shoulder from a passing Slytherin collided with Alice’s and knocked her into Justin who grabbed her before she could fall. Bentley, who was on her heels, hissed.  

     A chorus of spiteful laughter raised in a crescendo, “oh, it looks like I bumped into a trash bin.” Came the voice of a mean blond boy she was, unfortunately, all too familiar with.

     “Hey, stop picking fights, first-year,” August Lemons said stiffly, stepping in before Alice could wallop him. The prefect made sure to flash his gold pin at him for good measure. Malfoy looked up at him and scowled.

     “Hah, you’re a prefect, are you? What an insult.” Draco sneered. “My dad knows yours, Lemons. You  filthy muggle-loving half-blood!” This was followed again by chortles from his rancid peanut gallery. The stragglers behind them nearly collided with each other to look on.

     “Be careful, Malfoy,” Lemons said darkly, pointing a finger at him. He wasn’t the sort that looked like he could say anything darkly, but somehow, he managed.  “Go on your way, and I won’t report you to Professor Dumbledore.”

     Draco pursed his lips, turned on his heel, and grabbed Crabbe and Goyle before running off to catch up with the rest of Slytherin house. Once they’d gone, Justin, August, and Alice passed down the winding splendidly lit corridors deeper and deeper under the castle until they arrived at an unceremonious looking stack of barrels.

     “This is the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room,” August told them spiritedly. “All you’ve gotta do is tap this barrel to the tune of _Helga Hufflepuff_ \- I’ll teach it to you. Make sure you remember it properly or else,” the prefect pointed to the ceiling where a bucket hung rather securely from the ceiling. “That bucket filled with vinegar will tip and soak you. You’ll smell for a week.”

 _“Well, isn’t that funny,”_ Bentley said acidly. It had been the first time he’d spoken since they'd arrived at Hogwarts. Alice scooped him off the ground and into her arms with a chuckle.

     “Very,” she responded quietly.

     “Experience with that, eh August?” Justin joked.

The prefect laughed, “not yet! Now, listen up- here’s the song,” he said with his wand resting on the second barrel from the floor.

_“A fair lady once danced on the green_

_The kindest witch you’ve ever seen,_

_She was just and sweet to all she met_

_She was unafraid to get her hands wet._

_Helga Hufflepuff – so steadfast and true-_

_We only wish we could be like you.”_

     The rhythm was rather simple and when August finished, the largest barrel top swung open, giving way to a large warm common room with a crackling fire in a circular hearth and pleasing daisy-yellow stuffed couches, chairs, and fluffy rugs. All of the wooden furnishings and the hardwood floor were made of a fragrant teak wood. A small portrait of a pretty round-faced witch over the hearth grinned and waved to them as they walked inside.

“Straggling behind, I see!” She laughed. It was still extremely disconcerting for Alice to see a painting speak.

      “These first years were curious about the castle, so we took a detour,” August said. “Boy’s dorm is through the left archway, Justin. Alice, I’ll need to speak with you seriously for a moment.”

       Justin frowned at them both, “not in trouble already, are you?” He asked Alice.

        “Not yet,” she smiled. “Go to bed- I’ll see you in the morning.” Though doubtful, Justin nonetheless did as she asked, and disappeared down the corridor behind a bookcase stocked with muggle comic books and other novels. “Helga, would you mind asking Sir Cadogan not to scare the third years out of the astronomy tower tomorrow? You’re the only one he listens to.” The portrait of Helga Hufflepuff blushed profusely.

       “All I do is ask nicely-“

        August waggled his eyebrows at her, “it never hurts, that’s for sure!”

        “Alright- I’ll be back shortly,” she replied and slipped out of the frame.

         “Are the paintings sentient?” Alice asked him curiously. She’d been wondering that ever since she first saw the Chocolate Frog cards on the train.

        “They’re bewitched, and even though they feel all the usual human emotions- they’re sort of like the school’s ghosts… so no. Now, back to the message you want to send.” August said, taking a small red velvet pouch out of his cloak, opened it, and held it out to her. “Floo powder- reach in, take a little in hand, tell the fire where you want to go, and toss the dust in. Once the flames turn green, stick your head in and send your message.”

       Alice was all sorts of confused, but without wasting another second, she reached into the bag, pulled out a little of the soot-colored powder, whispered her home address, threw it into the fire which turned green shortly after, and she looked at August who nodded, and Alice hesitantly put her head into the oddly cool flames.

       Where she expected to see nothing except for the hearth wall, she found herself looking into a rather familiar living room. Her father was sitting on the couch staring into a mug, and her mother was pacing about dictating a letter to five different ballpoint pens which were scribbling her frantic words on lined paper which were all hovering around her like her own personal planetary system.

      “Mum, dad?” Alice called. Her parents started in fright- her father dropping his cup of hot chocolate on the floor, shattering it to pieces. The pens and paper that were hovering in a circle around her mother stopped and clattered to the floor. They looked at their daughter whose head was floating in their fireplace dumbfounded.

     “Alice! How-“

      “An upperclassmen helped me,” she explained. Her mother, still shocked crossed over to the fireplace and knelt down, her father had a huge cocoa stain on his trousers, but he followed suit.

      “It’s fortunate you called,” her father said worriedly. “Your sister has been missing all day- she didn’t go to school…” 

       Rushed, Alice quietly told her parents the story about how Thalia had snuck onto the Hogwarts Express and into the castle, and that she was on her way back to London on the train as they spoke. Her parents looked angry, but relieved in the odd way parents did.

       “I can’t believe she would do that- how did she even get close? Muggles aren’t allowed near the grounds!”

       “She isn’t a muggle, mum. She could see _everything_ ,” Alice explained. Her mother looked quite pale.

       “She must be a squib- if she didn’t receive a letter…”

        “A what?” Alice inquired.

        “They’re people that aren’t quite muggles and not quite wizards. Sometimes they don’t have any magic ability at all- other than the ability to see through enchantments.” Her mother seemed perplexed by this.

         Sighing, Alice apologized for Thalia and asked them not to punish her too harshly. They made no such promise which made Alice cringe and soon, they left for King’s Cross station to wait for her sibling who would likely be in London within the hour.

          When Alice pulled her face out of the flames, the Hufflepuff common room returned, as did August Lemons who was lounging on one of the sofas.

      “Did you get your message through?”

     “Yes,” she answered, relieved. “Thank you, August.”

     "Then, off to bed with you. Classes start bright and early tomorrow. You'll receive your schedule at breakfast."

 

       The other girls were already chatting among themselves when Alice entered the girls' dorm. The room was circular, giving way to a skylight- which- instead of the sky, offered a view beneath the rippling surface of the very same lake that they had sailed across earlier that evening. Alice was feeling very quiet, so Susan and an older girl named Fauna Crispin did most of the talking

     That night, Alice had another dream; she was hovering just above a line of darkened trees when she saw a dazzling flash of silver on the ground below. Still airborne, she soared after the silver flash and plummeted to the ground- alighting behind a wizened oak tree. She peered around the trunk curiously, only to have the warmth squeezed out of her in an instant.

       A dark figure was hunkered over a creature that looked as if it had once been the color of moonlight as it struggled in vain. It lifted its head to reveal a horn and a matted silver mane, and let out a pained whinny; _a unicorn! It was hurting a unicorn!_

“Stop!” Alice cried, her small voice bouncing harmlessly off the trees. “Please stop!” She tried again, her voice was fading as her courage did. This time, the figure looked up- its head swathed in a black hood. The only thing she could see was a pale grinning mouth covered in silver blood.

Alice screamed.  


	6. Polaroids and Broomsticks

Alice tried her best not to let last night’s dream get to her and allowed herself to get swept up in the excitement that came with the first day of school. Her black cat stayed behind in the Hufflepuff common room much to her dismay; she had hoped he might come along so that she would have someone to talk to. 

The Great Hall was bustling and cheerful; the eggs were exactly the way mum made them. The head boy and girl distributed schedules by sending them whizzing down the table with their wands.

“What is your first course?” Susan asked excitedly, peering over at Alice’s schedule when she unfolded it.  “Transfiguration!” She cried, sadly. “Drat- I’m in charms.” 

“I’m in charms as well- d’ya imagine Dumbledore heard me talking about it last night?” 

“Maybe,” Susan said mysteriously. “An old wizard like that- he must have his ways of knowing things.” 

It turned out that Alice had no classes with fellow Hufflepuffs at all this term. She’d never felt quite so alone before. But out of the corner of her eyes, she noticed Hermione on the other side of the hall with an arm full of books as everyone (leave for a few upperclassmen with the period off) stood to head to class. Alice bounced after her. 

“Hermione!” She cried, waving her bushy-haired friend down. Hermione practically glowed with excitement. 

“Are you coming to transfiguration as well?” 

“Yes, actually! I hoped that I would know _someone!_ ” 

“Good- you can sit next to me! Professor McGonagall is the head of Gryffindor house- she’s fascinating!”

_She was the one that greeted us yesterday night,_ Alice thought, remembering how scary the witch had appeared- but in a strict grandmotherly way- not the sort with green skin and warts.

They really should set the record straight in the muggle world about that. 

When they arrived in the transfiguration classroom, Professor McGonagall was nowhere in sight. Instead, a curious gray and black striped tabby sitting statuesque on her desk. In fact, Alice thought the cat was a paperweight until she saw its tail curling. 

Hermione sat down at the very front desk which could occupy two, and Alice placed her books next to her. “I’ll be back,” she told Hermione, before going up to the desk to offer the cat her hand to sniff. The cat simply looked at her with an annoyed expression. Alice cringed and stuffed her hand back into her pocket.

“Are you the professor’s cat?” 

“Alice! Get over here and read,” Hermione whispered. 

“Sorry for bothering you,” she muttered, slumping over to her own desk. The moment she did, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley ran into the room out of breath. They were late. 

“Could you imagine the look on McGonagall’s face if we were late?” Ron asked, obviously relieved to see the tall severe woman nowhere in sight. Hermione only rolled her eyes at them and went back to her book.  Alice stifled a giggle and was just about to crack open her own book when the cat on the desk leaped from it and changed… into _Professor McGonagall._

_OH, NO. SHE JUST TRIED TO PET PROFESSOR MCGONAGALL._

Hermione bit her lip to stop from laughing at Alice’s dismay.  

“That was bloody brilliant,” Ron said, a little phased by her sudden appearance. 

“Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps I should transfigure either yourself or Mr. Potter into a pocket watch so that maybe one of you might be on time.”

“We got lost, ma’am,” Harry offered. 

“Then perhaps a map? I expect you won’t need one to help you find your seats.” 

Ron and Harry shuffled quickly to the last remaining desk in the room and Professor McGonagall’s eyes fell on Alice who’d put her head in her hands. 

The girl wished she could just disappear. She dared to meet Professor McGonagall’s eyes with flushed cheeks. “I’m so sorry professor.” 

Giggles from students that had been paying attention followed, including from Malfoy who was sitting farther to the side of the room with Goyle. Why did _he_ have to see that?! 

“Miss. Silverstone,” Professor McGonagall said, not unkindly. “It was a simple mistake to make, so worry not. Anyway, I’ve had far worse things happen to me while I was a cat.”

Alice nodded with smarting cheeks, looking down at her lap and scrunching her shoulders so as to not take up as much space. The professor gave the girl a comforting pat on the shoulder and began her lesson. 

Her faux pas was soon forgotten.  

The next class on her schedule was potions with a tall, pale, black-haired man named Professor Snape. Unlike Professor McGonagall, Snape did not make a grand magical entrance. Instead, he swept into the dark cavernous potions room, his black cloak billowing behind him like some dark prince.

Alice’s ballpoint pen hovered above the ivory page in her potions notebook as he passed, and suddenly he halted to a stop in front of her and yanked the pen out of her fingers. 

“Muggle writing utensils _are not_ to be used in this class, Miss _Silverstone_.” 

_Well, Professor McGonagall hadn’t minded._

Fear and embarrassment churned in her stomach, “I’m sorry, sir. I’m just very bad at using a quill.” 

“If I wanted excuses, I’d have asked for them. Did I ask?” 

“No, sir.” She whispered, hardly audible. 

“Again?” 

“No, sir,” she said, more loudly. Malfoy snickered from the table behind her. Hermione had decided to sit next to Harry and Ron this period and Alice found a desk next to Neville; who, she’d noticed, seemed to shrink smaller and smaller the longer Snape paid them any mind. 

“I hope you brought a spare quill, Miss. Silverstone,” Professor Snape said in his monotone. Alice fumbled with her bag and procured a blue lacquer box her mother had used when she was in school, she opened it to reveal the quill and inkwell inside.  

“Tread carefully, young lady. I have the power to deduct house points.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Now, there will be no silly incantations or wand-waving in this class,“ Snape said briskly, going forward to slam shut all of the shutters in the already darkened dungeon classroom with his wand. Malfoy threw a piece of crumpled parchment at the back of her head. She ignored him. 

Snape began his lecture- which he interrupted halfway through to yell at Harry Potter for apparently not paying attention.

By the time class was over, a surprisingly large pile of balled- up parchment had accumulated behind her chair; the culprit being Draco Malfoy of course, who’d quickly slipped out of the room before Snape could notice the mess. Neville had started to stand when Snape swooped over, his dark eyes narrowed on the unseemly clutter. 

“Mr. Longbottom, just _where_ do you think you’re going?” 

“T-t-to charms, sir.” 

“I don’t think so,” he scowled, pointing a long pale finger at the pile of parchment. “Clean it up immediately.” 

“Sir, Neville wasn’t responsible for this,” said Alice, finding a small bit of courage. “Draco Malfoy was throwing paper at my hair because I was ignoring him. I’ll take responsibility for it if you’d let Neville go to class.” 

Snape nodded curtly and allowed Neville to scurry away. Alice sighed and stooped to pick up the papers. 

“What are you doing?” Demanded Snape. “Take out your wand, girl.”

_Of course!_ Alice might have slapped herself. Drawing out her wand, she made the simple swish and flick motion she’d learned from reading ahead, “wingardium leviosa!” 

One after another, the pieces of parchment began to levitate as if a giant magnet were hanging over a pile of magnetized metal.

“Good, now into the rubbish bin,” he said, pointing to the black receptacle near his desk. She quickly did as asked. Once the mess was cleaned up, she quickly packed her things and dashed out the door, leaving Snape standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest. 

She was late arriving to charms class, but Professor Flitwick was very nice about it and told her to sit down wherever, but the only seat left was next to a boy whose eyes were glowing with excitement. 

“How’dya do?” He grinned, shaking Alice’s hand. “My name’s Seamus Finnigan, who’re you?” 

“I’m Alice Silverstone. Nice to meet you.” She whispered as Flitwick began the lesson. Seamus only smiled more widely. 

“Good to meet you, Alice. This is my friend, Dean Thomas,” he said, clapping his hand on the shoulder of the boy on the other side of him. Dean nodded at her with a small smile and shook her hand. 

Weeks passed, and Alice got used to her classes- and her professors. She found that she had a talent for wand work and an interest in magical history; it was far more interesting than learning about the same old European history taught at Saint Thomas’s year after year. Her potion-making skills, however, were nothing to brag about. Frankly, she was horrible at it and Snape didn’t let her forget it, either. He always assigned her extra work in hopes that she might improve. 

She kept in touch with Thalia who’d been grounded for a month after sneaking off to Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore no longer seemed to suspect her of anything. During her second week at school, her sister sent her the old family polaroid camera to take pictures and send them back. Occasionally, she would receive packages containing cookies, comic books, and a copy of _The Telegram_  from home. Suffice it to say that the cookies didn’t last long after mail call- almost everyone at Hufflepuff table wanted one.

In fact, they had gone completely bananas when she’d gotten the muggle camera in the mail, and had suggested that they do magical things in the photos to keep them interesting since muggle pictures didn’t move. 

August Lemons even transfigured Justin into a corgi for one of them- only to be scolded by Professor McGonagall who had been walking down the corridor near the Defense Against the Dark Arts room at that particular moment. Alice took a picture of that ordeal too.

Alice, Hermione, and Susan became even faster friends and explored the castle for places to study; among the quietest being the astronomy tower, but soon, October alighted over the Scottish countryside and it became too cold and windy to study there.

The library was their alternative; it was quiet, warm, and abuzz with students that had middle-of-terms to study for. There was a small room that they frequented- just past the restricted section. There was only one large desk in the room, so they found themselves sprawled out on the ornate red carpet with their books, parchment, and quills. They were nary disturbed in that room. The Great Hall began to feature pumpkin juice at meals which Alice took a liking to immediately. 

Seamus, Dean, and Neville would often join the study group that she, Hermione, and Susan unwittingly made. Justin had also expressed interest in joining, but he was always busy with other friends when it was time for them to convene.

On one particular day in October, Alice had been lumped in with Slytherin House to have broom-riding lessons with the Gryffindors. The thought made her cringe. During her time at Hogwarts, she learned that Gryffindors and Slytherins had been rivals for ages and usually, whenever the two houses were involved, it could only mean trouble.

Alice had been careful to avoid Draco Malfoy or ignore him at every turn for the last month and a half, but as they stood next to each other on the courtyard green, she was forced to take notice of him. 

“Still want that lesson, rubbish heap?” He whispered in her ear. It made her skin crawl so much that she had to suppress a shudder. Crabbe and Goyle snickered with glee.

_Malfoy would not get the better of me today,_ she thought firmly, even though he was really starting to. 

“Good afternoon class!” Madam Hooch said, swiftly walking down the center of the two rows of students. Her eyes were a yellow color that made Alice wonder if the witch had been a Hawk in another life. It might have explained her interest in flying sports.

“Good afternoon, Madam Hooch,” everyone responded. 

“Welcome to your first flying lesson. Now, I want you to put your hand over your broom and say ‘up’.” 

Harry’s broom was the first to soar into his hand. Alice looked down at the broom she’d been given; it was a far older model than the one she’d seen in the broom shop; _the nimbus two-thousand._

_Thwunk!_ Malfoy’s broom soared into his hand, and he grinned wolfishly at her.

“Come, now!” Madam Hooch called to the remaining students who were all but shouting at their broomsticks, “with more feeling!”

Hermione seemed to be having a little trouble with her broom, and Ron’s nearly broke his nose as it sprang off the ground and whacked him in the face. 

She gasped, and Harry snickered at his friend, giving Alice a wink. She colored and looked down at her broom apprehensively. 

“What’s wrong? Scared?” The mean blond boy sneered. 

“As if,” she growled annoyance soon taking precedence over her fear, sticking her hand over her broom. “UP!” She roared, and her broom rocketed off the ground, nearly taking flight itself, and her with it. 

“Stay on the ground, Miss Silverstone!” Madam Hooch called, as Alice tugged her broom a little lower to the ground. Malfoy snickered.

“Not bad- for rubbish.”

Her ears went very pink with anger because she knew that if he said one more word, she was going to hit him. Absently she wondered if the sorting hat had put her in the wrong house. 

A few minutes passed before everyone had their brooms in hand. 

“Now, I want you to mount your broomsticks and grasp them very firmly. I don’t want any of you slipping off the end. Next, you’re going to kick off from the ground hard, hover for a moment, then touch back down. Ready? Three, two-” she blew her whistle, and suddenly, Neville was airborne and utterly panicked. 

“Neville?” Alice cried.

“Someone help!” 

“Mr. Longbottom, come back down here!” Cried Madam Hooch. When She realized Neville didn’t know how she took out her wand just as Neville shot towards her on his broom. Everyone scattered and Madam Hooch dove for cover. Alice watched in horror as Neville was tossed this way and that as the broom hurtled towards the gray stone of Hogwarts castle. 

_He was going to be squashed!_ Alice jumped onto her broom- feeling more than a little ridiculous, and kicked off from the ground as Madam Hooch instructed. To her astonishment, her feet were no longer on the ground as she’d expected for them to have been, but there was no time to be amazed. She leaned forward and gunned right for poor Neville. 

"Miss Silverstone!" Madam Hooch shouted as she sped off. 

“Neville!” Alice screamed just as her classmate hit the wall, his broomstick splintered and he plummeted- his cloak caught on a metal parapet. He was dazed, but when he saw her, his eyes widened. 

“Alice!” The boy cried as he began to slip out of his cloak. Just as that happened, she flew straight for him, and he reached for her with both hands. Alice grabbed one of his forearms and pulled him around so that he was sitting behind her. 

“Hang on, Neville, I’ve got you.” She said, comfortingly as he wrapped his arms around her waist tightly and sniffled. How she’d managed that timing was beyond her, but she was very glad she did. He could have been really seriously injured. When they touched down on the green, all of the students (leave for Malfoy and his goons) crowded them, bright-eyed and concerned for Neville. Madam Hooch pushed her way through the cheering students. 

“Are you alright, Neville?” She asked him, seizing him up worriedly. 

“Yes, ma’am- a little winded, and a bit of a headache is all,” Neville staggered off the broom. Alice and Madam Hooch hurried to stabilize him. 

“A concussion,” Madam Hooch confirmed after checking his reflex control, tsking. “I’m taking him to the hospital wing. If I see _one_ broom in the air, you’ll be out of this school before you can say Quidditch." Just as she was about to leave, she turned to face Alice, "I’d like to speak with you after class about your conduct, Miss. Silverstone.” She added, sweeping a grateful looking Neville away from the group. As they walked, Alice heard Madam Hooch say; “you’re lucky, Mr. Longbottom. You could have broken your wrist.”


	7. Nothing but Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone- it's been a while since my last update. I am so sorry- for your patience, I'm uploading two chapters today. In the time since my last update, I've gotten an office job, and double as a bookseller twice a week.... and sometimes, I work a little on film sets. HOWEVER, there are no excuses for my absence- so I hope you enjoy!

“Do you think they’ll kick me out, Hermione?” She blubbered, tears filling her eyes just as soon as Neville and Madam Hooch were out of earshot.

“Oh, Alice,” Hermione gasped, hugging her tightly as she cried.

She’d only wanted to make sure Neville didn't get hurt... oh, what if they expelled her for it?

“No, I don’t think they would,” She said patting her back sympathetically. At this moment, Alice did feel a little pathetic and very embarrassed. Draco was watching her with keen interest. He wasn’t gloating, he was just... standing there watching. Pulling away from her, Alice scrubbed at her cheeks trying to get her bearings. “Oh, has anyone got a handkerchief?”

“Here,” said Ron, procuring a daisy yellow one from his robes, and handed it to Alice. She took it with a grateful smile and wiped her eyes.

“You alright?” Harry asked, standing just behind Hermione. She could only nod. “That was brilliant, honest,” he grinned.

“Thanks, Harry. I just... hope I don’t get a note home to mum and dad. They’ll be furious-” but that’s when she spotted it; something round and glittering on the ground. “What’s that?” So she stooped to pick it up. It was a glass ball, but a strange red smoke began to form inside of it at her touch. She frowned and wondered if it was a bad thing.

“It’s Neville’s rememberall,” Hermione explained helpfully. “The smoke turns red if you’ve forgotten something.”

Before Alice could respond, the small glass ball was snatched out of her hands.

“It doesn’t even tell you what you forgot?“ Malfoy sneered, turning the rememberall once over with his pale one. Their classmates had grown quite quiet, and she could feel about a dozen pair of eyes on them.

“Give that back!” Said Alice staunchly, trying to make a grab for it, but he held it just out of her reach. A mean grin spread across Draco’s face as he turned to the rest of their classmates. It made her stomach churn.

“Useless rubbish, just like its owner.”

“Hey!” Hermione said, shrilly.

“Give it here, Malfoy,” said Harry firmly, stepping forward. His eyes firey with a challenge.

“No,” the blond boy said mounting his broom, “I think I’ll make it something for Longbottom to find. Maybe on the roof?” Draco’s voice dripped with poisonous vitriol as he hovered for a moment before shooting skyward.

Harry glared at him and mounted his own broom.

“No, Harry, you can’t! You’ll be expelled!” Hermione said, trying to convince the black-haired boy to keep his feet on the ground, but Alice didn’t think Harry was listening.

“At least I won’t be alone,” Harry grinned at Alice before jetting off after Malfoy.

Fortunately, Alice turned the color of a particularly fresh sliced salmon after Harry had gone.

“What an idiot,” grumbled Hermione under her breath.

Ron, on the other hand, looked impressed.

“You were both raised muggles, weren’t you?” The red-head asked, still watching the pair in the sky. They were arguing. Alice nodded. “How did you get all the talent?” He huffed.

She only smiled sheepishly at him unsure of how to respond. Somehow, it felt very inopportune to mention her mother’s illustrious Quidditch career. Refocusing on the skirmish going on in the air, Alice could hear Harry say something in a loud voice that could almost be heard from the ground. Whatever it had been made Draco chuck the tiny glass ball. Hard. And the black-haired boy dove right after it.

Draco was laughing when he touched back down on the green in front of her. Gritting her teeth, Alice clenched her fists while Crabbe and Goyle patted him on the back.

“When Madam Hooch gets back, you and Potter are going to be expelled,” said Draco in a way that Alice could best describe as self-congratulatory as if he’d orchestrated the entire event. Anger boiled under her skin like water in a kettle ready to shriek.

Alice was tired of avoiding him, tired of having things thrown at her, and just so tired of being bullied.

She pointed a single finger at him, “you’d better look out, Draco Malfoy. Once I learn a nasty enough spell, I’m going to use it on you, and there’s going to be no way you’ll be able to prove that I did it.”

Draco didn’t look fazed, but he stepped into her finger until they were toe to toe, “I’d like to see you try, rubbish bin.”

“Alice, you can’t! You really _will_ get expelled!” Hermione cried, Ron’s grin was about five kilometers wide. Their classmates had grown quiet- even including Crabbe and Goyle, as they watched them in a charged silence. Alice was too angry to be worried about being expelled right now.

“Don’t mistake that for an empty promise,” she said coolly. “I’m quite serious.”

“We’ll see,” Draco said after a curious moment of silence, it felt like he was reading her eyes for something to give sincerity to her words.

Then chatter started up again as Harry Potter alighted on the green with Neville’s remembrall clutched firmly in his hand. He’d done it!

Alice swept past Draco to join the crowd that was starting to form around Harry.

“Well done, Harry!” She grinned, right before a shrill voice rose up from nearby.

“Harry Potter!”

Turning around, everyone was greeted by a tall column of green robes. Professor McGonagall’s brown-gray hair was piled on top of her head in a sophisticated coif, and she looked quite severe. “Potter, come with me.”

Alice looked back at her classmate in alarm. She's the head of Gryffindor House... Oh, no!

The smile on Harry’s face dissolved, and the students opened a pathway for him, and he dropped the remembrall into Alice’s hands. “I might see you on the train back to London.” He told her, not unkindly.

“Oh, Harry-“ she started sadly before McGonagall whisked him away. “Why do I feel like this was my fault somehow?” She muttered to herself, shaking her head.

When Madam Hooch returned, she dismissed the class but held Alice back. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and Draco was sure to give her a foul guffaw before he swept back into the castle with his goons like loyal dogs on his heels.

Her cheeks smarted and fidgeted as a quiet fell between them.

“Well,” she said, not looking nearly as angry as Alice thought she might be- though- her yellow eyes were still disquieting all on their own. “I have never- in all my years- seen a maneuver like that by a first-year. Let alone, a first year that’s never left the ground before.”

Alice blinked away the tears that were already starting to form in her eyes, “what?”

“Your flying is impeccable,” Madam Hooch said wryly. Relief coursed through her body like a tidal wave, her knees nearly gave way.

“I thought for sure that you were going to expel me.”

“Expel you?” Madam Hooch laughed, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Dear girl, no! That would be a serious mistake when Hufflepuff so desperately needs a good House team. Anyway, you saved poor Mr. Longbottom from a nasty spill.”

Alice tried to divert the compliment, but Madam Hooch wouldn’t have it. “I want you to practice with the Hufflepuff team in secret until your second year when you’re old enough. I’ll write you a note granting you permission if you’ll follow me back to my office.” She said, and they walked into the castle together, Alice scurrying after Madame Hooch’s long strides. “Be sure to give it to Julie MacDougal- she’s the Hufflepuff team captain.”

She’d seen Julie a few times talking with August, and with some of the older students that Alice wasn’t too familiar with. Their world seemed quite far away and near impossible to breach.

“Yes, Madam Hooch,” excitement rising in her stomach, she felt as if she could burst.

Alice and Madam Hooch passed the trophy room after scaling around flights of moving stairs and entered a small office which was decorated in Quidditch paraphernalia including flags from tournaments, medals, trophies, broomsticks, and moving photographs of incredible action shots. She was entranced by one of the photographs in particular which sat on one of the shelves near a purple flag with a golden star on it.

The photograph was of a very familiar young woman with long blond hair arranged in a thick braid that reached her mid-back. Astride a very sleek broomstick, her expression was confident and daring. She sported an oddly familiar determined set brow. Her purple cloak flapped behind her in the wind and leather guards protected her shins, knees, and arms.

She picked up the photograph to look more closely, and the woman in the photograph met her eyes and waved with a friendly grin.

“Mum?” Alice whispered in awe.

“Ah,” Madam Hooch said, having not heard this interjection, from her desk as she took out a spare piece of parchment and a quill. “Cassandra Burns; best beater for Ravenclaw in fifty years if I do say so myself. Went on to fly as a chaser for Pride of Portree professionally for about three years.”

Still staring at the picture, her mother’s attention moved to the crowd as she waved. She carefully set the photograph back on the shelf and walked over to the desk where Madam Hooch was still scrawling something on the parchment in black ink.

“Why did she stop?”

“That’s the question everyone’s been dying to know the answer to for years,” she answered. “Nobody’s seen her since. It’s all very odd. Some say that she had children quite young and wanted to keep them away from the spotlight. Others say that… well, others say she went into hiding.”

“Hiding?” Alice asked, her voice going up a little. “Why?”

“You were brought up in a muggle household, weren’t you?” Asked Madam Hooch, raising an eyebrow. Alice nodded.

If her mother was in hiding, it was certainly a good thing that she’d kept her mouth shut about her earlier. “Many years ago, there was a dark wizard who believed that only pure-blood witches and wizards should study magic.”

“Pure-blood?” Alice asked, thinking back to her first night at Hogwarts at the sorting. Draco had called August a half-blood. She’d wondered what that had meant, but August’s reaction to it scared her, so she decided not to ask any more about it.

“Wizarding families that do not share any muggle ancestry- take the Malfoys for example."

“That’s awful,” said Alice after a moment. “If you’re born with magic, you should be able to practice it- no questions asked. Why does it even matter, to begin with?”

“Well, that is what those who stood against the Dark Lord and his followers believed,” Madam Hooch said. “This is a dark conversation, I’m sorry to have started it- seeing as you’re a muggle-born yourself, but...”

Alice thought it best not to correct her; if her mother was hiding from this Dark Lord, it was pertinent that she keep her as secret as possible. Shaking her head, Alice gave the woman a smile, “that’s a fairly important thing to know, so I’m happy you told me. But what does this have to do with the girl in the picture?”

Madam Hooch pursed her lips, “she was a known advocate against the dark wizard and his followers, and she was quite influential and used her celebrity as a platform. The dark wizard’s followers hunted her down and blackmailed her into silence... but I think that’s enough for one day,” she said quickly, signing the permission form with a flourish, and handed the parchment to Alice. “Hand this off to Julie as soon as you can. Now run along- I have work to do.”

 

Unfortunately, Madam Hooch’s story left Alice with more questions than ever. Alice's inattention sent her unknowingly propelling through multiple Hogwarts ghosts including Nearly Headless Nick who was busy talking to a woman dressed in an opulent silvery gown and a group of Christmas carolers (even though Christmas was a good ways away), but it was the Bloody Baron that tore her out of her reverie before she collided with him.

“Watch where you’re going!” The Baron seethed. He wore a long curly wig and a silk waistcoat, pantaloons, and high boots. A rapier hung on his hip, glittering with the promise of carnage.

“I’m sorry,” Alice stammered, her hands out to assess the damage she’d almost caused- but the Bloody Baron was a ghost. No damage could be done and she suddenly felt her cheeks go hot. “Yes, sir,” she said, bending slightly to curtsy, before scurrying away.

 

 _Could there be so much that I don’t know about mum?_ Thought Alice absently as she stared up at the lofty raw beams of the Hufflepuff girls' dormitory hours after dinner.

“You alright, Alice?” Bentley asked, leaping upon the foot of her bed, padding his way over to her.

“I hardly know, Bentley,” whispered Alice, turning over onto her side to face him. “I hardly know.”

 

The next day at breakfast, Alice managed to find Julie.

The pretty brunette upperclassman was surrounded by other upperclassmen who sounded as if they were discussing some strategy or another because they were all crowded around a copy of a newspaper called _The Daily Prophet_. The particular article they were discussing at length featured a broomstick advert from Quality Quidditch Supply.

“Ahem, excuse me, Julie?” Alice said, a little apprehensively.

The girl turned, a quizzical brow furrowed as she locked eyes with her. “Yes?”

“I have a letter for you from Madam Hooch if you’ll read it,” she whispered conspiratorially, fishing the parchment out of her robes. Ellie nodded once and took the letter from her and read it, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise, looking up at her.

“By Jove- you’re the one she meant!” The girl grinned, rising to her full gargantuan height, clapping Alice on the shoulder. The smaller girl's knees buckled a little, managing a toothy smile. “Try-outs are at the end of the month, you’ll participate, right?”

“Absolutely!”

 

Alice’s mind was on Quidditch for most- if not all- of the day. Snape’s particularly foul temper was enough to ruin the rest of her morning.

“Is that... another muggle writing utensil I see, Miss. Silverstone?” Snape droned, but Alice was too busy doodling in her notebook to notice. Suddenly, the notebook was whipped up by professor Snape while he inspected the too-colorful Lisa Frank unicorn emblazoned across the cover. She looked up unable to find the right words.

“How... interesting,” the professor droned, his voice about as oily as his hair. “Another unsanctioned muggle possession. Twenty points from Hufflepuff.”

“But, sir!” She cried. Then, he turned the book around and read what she’d been writing. She stood up before she could stop herself, and for one chilling moment, she thought he would read what she’d written aloud, or ridicule her for it.

Instead, his lips pursed into a thin line, “and another ten points for not. Paying. Attention. I rather hope you have spare parchment and a quill. I’ll be keeping this... atrocity.” He folded her notebook into his cloak and swept off to continue talking about how to make sleeping drafts.

As luck and her absent-mindedness would have it, Alice did not have spare parchment and a quill.

“Here, Alice- you can use some of mine,” offered Neville quietly handing her a spare bit of parchment and a quill after Snape stalked away.

She took them sheepishly, “thanks, Neville- I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t give it a second thought,” he grinned. “Anyway, I don’t want you to get in trouble with Snape again. He might start giving you detention.”

Alice cringed and laughed, "That would be awful."

"Why don't you go back to London if you can't follow the rules, trash heap?" A voice whispered from behind her. Draco.

"Why don't you stop talking forever?" She retorted.

"At least I'm not the one with filthy muggle habits," replied Malfoy with a sneer.

_Filthy muggle habits?!_

"I don't know how my mother could be friends with someone who spawned someone as awful as you."

"How dare you talk about my mother," Draco seethed.

"Alice," Neville quavered, eyeing Snape who was still delivering his speech on historical uses of the sleeping draft while keeping a very sharp eye on them- as constantly as he could spare them.

Alice snapped her mouth shut. He was right. She couldn't afford to get a letter home over Draco Malfoy. Dipping Neville's spare quill into the inkwell, Alice began scribbling on her parchment.

"You blithering coward," Draco whispered venomously. Perhaps she should make herself a set of magical earplugs that only prevent her from hearing anything the blond boy said. In fact, that sounded like a lovely idea. A trip to the library might be a good place to start, and perhaps there were newspaper clippings about her mother there.

Maybe she could learn a little more about her life when she was apart of this world.

After class, she gave her anti-Draco earplug proposition to a rather bedraggled-looking Hermione and a fresh-faced Susan, and they all headed off to the library with an enthusiasm that could only come from the prospect of never hearing his awful voice ever again.


	8. Bentley's Secret

Later that day, Hermione, Alice, and Susan found themselves in the library surrounded by potion books near a large window overlooking a courtyard next to the section on magical history.

“It seems like we’re going to have to create our own potion, doesn’t it?” Susan sighed glumly, resting her cheek on her hand, flipping listlessly through a book titled _Potions- Grade Five_. 

“You know,” Hermione mused, skimming _Advanced Potion Making_ , “maybe if we follow the recipe for Auger’s Deafness Draft and add a little something of Malfoy’s, perhaps?”

“Something like what?” Alice asked, wrinkling her nose- not quite liking where this was going. 

“Like hair,” Hermione intoned, reaching for a book which was opened to the page detailing the draft, and flipped to a yellowing page which had the ingredients for something called polyjuice potion. “This is a different potion, but it requires something of someone else's to work. As gross as it is, it might be exactly what we need.”  

Susan and Alice exchanged disgusted glances as they leaned in to read the book, “we wouldn’t have to... drink it, would we?” Susan piped in askance. 

“Well, Auger’s Deafness Draft was meant to be eye-dropped directly into the ears,” Hermione replied, sliding the book across the table, pointing to the portion of the instructions. “So we shouldn’t.”

"Good,” Alice and Susan sighed in relief simultaneously. 

“Looks like the preparation time and cauldron time together is about three hours,”  Alice stated, matter-of-factly. “But wisteria petals are out of season and it calls for unicorn horn dust and... we’re going to have a difficult time finding that ingredient.” 

“I saw some at the apothecary in Diagon Alley... they were really expensive,” Alice offered, sullenly.

“Perhaps we could ask Professor Snape about using some of the equipment in his stores? Otherwise, we’d have to go to the village, and first years aren’t allowed.” Said Susan, a little nervously.

“Do you think he’d really let us?” Alice mused skeptically.

“It never hurts to ask,” a chillingly familiar slow voice clipped making the girls jump all at once. 

“Professor!” Hermione chirped in shock, looking directly up at Professor Snape who was glowering over her. “W-we erm...” 

“We’d like to make a potion,” Alice explained, commanding her voice not to waver. Snape’s saturnine eyes flicked over to her. 

“And which potion have you decided to attempt concocting if I may ask?” 

“Auger’s Deafness Draft,” she replied, handing Professor Snape _Moste Potente Potions_ , “with a slight variation.” 

He looked back up at her incredulously. “What _variation?”_

“We only want to be deaf to the voice of one specific person.” 

A smirk upturned the side of his mouth. The professor inspected the recipe carefully, “and _who_ is the unfortunate target if I might ask?”

“Draco Malfoy,” the girls said all at once. “He’s horrid!”, “A distraction from our studies”

These vocal sentiments earned them piercing glares and shushing from the library’s other patrons. Snape’s mouth twitched into what looked like the preface to a very tight-lipped smile.

“Is it possible?” Hermione asked Professor Snape curiously. 

“Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully. “However, unicorn horn is not a common ingredient. It’s a wonder that this book was shelved for common consumption.” Snape flipped the book over and scanned the back cover. “Curious. I’ll have to have a chat with Madam Pince about this. That said,” the black-haired professor went on tucking the book under his arm, “if you are interested in experimenting, I don’t see any problem with it. I will arrange for a few hours on Saturday for you to make the potion in my classroom. In the meantime, I’ll try to acquire a unicorn horn.” 

The girls exchanged surprised looks, “thank you, sir.” Alice said, “truly.” 

“And Miss Silverstone?” 

“Sir?” 

“If your potion proves successful, I will return your notebook to you. However, if I see it in my classroom again, I will have to take it. For good.” 

“Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you.” 

Professor Snape pursed his thin lips and nodded before sweeping away again. 

“He was rather nice about the whole thing,” Alice said as she, Hermione, and Susan made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Yes,” Susan agreed. “Perhaps he’s not as mean as he’d have everyone think.” 

“Perhaps,” Hermione agreed, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere.

The three of them migrated into the Great Hall chatting quietly among themselves when a paper plane whizzed through the air and crash-landed in Hermione's unruly curls. The girls jumped, letting out simultaneous sharp squeaking sounds. 

“What in the world-” Hermione gasped, tearing the plane out of her hair, looking around until she saw Harry and Ron across the room sitting at Gryffindor table staring meaningfully at her. The plane had been made of newspaper. Rolling her eyes, Hermione unfolded the plane and glanced over it with an increasing level of interest.

“What is that?” Alice asked curiously as she and Susan peered over her shoulders to read it as well. A large black and white photograph depicted a pair of goblins standing in front of a vault.

“Oh, it’s erm... nothing- don’t worry about it,” Hermione said with a sigh, folding the paper and tucking it under her arm before either of them could read the headline. “Harry and Ron.” 

Susan and Alice exchanged knowing glances, “well, whatever it is, I hope Harry doesn’t get himself in trouble again.” Susan sighed, checking her charmed wristwatch. “I’ve got to run- I promised Justin that I’d help him with his spells homework. I’ll catch you two later.” 

“Alright,” Alice smiled, waving her off as she bounced across the Great Hall to sit with some other Hufflepuffs who were entranced in a game of wizard’s chess. Justin was among them, but his nose buried in a great blue book. The poor boy looked utterly at a loss.

“Alice,” Hermione smiled. “If you aren’t busy, why don’t you come and sit with me?” 

“At Gryffindor table?” Alice asked, a bit surprised. “Is that even allowed?” 

“It’s only a table,” Hermione said with a smile. “C’mon.”   

“Alright,” she conceded- sort of glad- because she truly had nothing else to do or anyone to see. She wasn’t expected at Quidditch practice until later that week, and her friend August, had been absent lately. She expected that he was quite busy with homework, his prefect duties, and Quidditch. He _was_ a sixth-year after all. 

Harry and Ron were talking amongst themselves, conspiratorially. Hermione walked straight past them with determination. 

“Are you lot on bad terms?” Alice whispered once they’d found a quiet place to crack open a few books that were in their backpacks. 

“They’re reckless,” Hermione said staunchly, slamming her History of Magic book open on the table.  

“You’re worried about them,” Alice said sympathetically. Hermione colored, shrugging- going back to her book. “Are they in trouble?” 

“If they keep meddling in dangerous things, they will be!” 

“What sort of dangerous things?” Alice asked a little too excitedly. 

Hermione shot her a withering glare, “not you, too!” 

The other girl pursed her lips a little shut-down. Coming up with no response, she sighed, and flipped open her transfiguration book to the proper page, and took out her quill, ink, and parchment. Professor McGonagall had posted an extra credit assignment. It wasn’t like Alice’s grade was suffering in her class, but it was never a bad thing to get a few extra points... just in case. 

About halfway through her paper on _Muggle Fairytales and Wizardry: Uses of Transfiguration to Teach a Lesson_ , a fluttering of owl wings descended from the high lofty ceiling of the Great Hall. A parliament of owls swooped in- all carrying parcels and letters and newspapers in their talons. 

“Mail’s here!” A few students exclaimed, and Alice sat up a bit straighter, watching the sky for an owl- any owl- that might bring her news from home. One owl dropped something quite long with a lumpy end in front of Harry a little way down the table. She and Hermione had leaned forward, peering at them curiously. Hermione let out a sigh, giving the parcel a suspicious side-eye as Harry looked at Ron with a grin, and inspected the envelope attached to it. The contents made them both rush off and out of the Great Hall excitedly.

Before Hermione could comment, a gray owl dropped a large parcel in front of her with a thunk- dangerously close to her nose.

“Heavens!” She gasped, throwing her hands over her freckled nose in alarm. 

“You alright?” Alice asked, concerned. Hermione could only nod and stare at the box wrapped in a few pages of the _Telegraph_ tied off with a bit of ribbon. “It’s from mum and dad,” Alice grinned, reading the tag carefully, “and from your parents as well.” 

“Really?” Hermione chirped, her brown eyes sparkling. “They’ve never sent me a package before.” 

“There’s a first time for everything!” Alice grinned pulling out her wand to cut the ribbon. “Diffindo!” 

Carefully, they tore the newspaper from the box, setting it aside to read later, and they pulled the top off and peered down at the contents inside. The two sides of the box could not have been any more different. Hermione’s side was very organized; three brand new books- all with curious titles;  _Tobias Wimblestern’s Brief History of Egyptian Sorcery,_ _Twelve Uses for Dragon’s Blood,_ and _Merlin; the Man Behind the Myth_ were packed, spines up. Next to the books was a jar of chopped fudge tied with a ribbon. A new toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, and dental floss were grouped in a corner.  A brand new bottle of India ink, freshly rolled parchment, a fat envelope with Hermione’s name scrawled on the front and a set of Classic Rainbow gel pens.

Alice’s side was stacked with a new roll of ink and blank photographs for her Polaroid camera, tattered copies of _Pride and Prejudice_ and _Wuthering Heights_ from her bookshelf at home, two letters tied together with brown string, a Tupperware box of macaroons from Saint Jean’s Bakery, and folded at the bottom was a faded purple blanket- the one she kept on her bed from home. It was freshly laundered- it smelled strongly of warm lavender. 

“Wow,” Hermione muttered, picking up the books first, turning each of them over in hand.

“I know,” grinned Alice, picking up the letters gingerly, and untied them. The first envelope was embossed with the words _From Mum and Dad_ in a scrawling cursive script.

The first message was from mum.

  _Dear Alice,_

The letter read. 

_ We hope you’ve been well. You seem to have made many friends at Hogwarts- some of your pictures are hanging up on the refrigerator. They seem lovely- we’d like to meet them one day. Why don’t you have them over for summer break? We could have a little bash if you’d like!  _

_ I also loved school as a girl- I was in Ravenclaw house, though- so my experience might be different from yours. Just so you know, Madam Hooch wrote us yesterday- congratulations on making the Hufflepuff house team, dear! I didn’t know you were the sporting type but know that your father and I are so proud. _

_ We’ll try to send you a broom in a few weeks once I can get around to going to Gringotts.  _

_ Things at home are going well. Your sister made the football team at Saint Thomas’s- she’ll be playing goalkeeper. Let us know which position you’ll be playing when you start practice later this month. _

_ We miss you very much, and can’t wait for you to come home for Christmas. We’ll have your favorite biscuits waiting for you! By the way, I do have some news; we’re all going to Malfoy Manor for Christmas dinner. I hope that you and Draco have been getting on alright. _

Mum could have said that they had replaced her with Frankenstein’s monster, and it would have had a similar effect. She would have to put up with an entire evening of _Draco Malfoy_ on _Christmas!_ The Grinch didn’t even need to come to town this year; Draco would be doing his job for him. Rolling her eyes, she read on; 

_ Narcissa and I  have been talking lately, and I do miss her. We’ll talk about this when you get home.  _

_ I love you very much, xoxo _

_ Mum _

Her father's letter began in the neatest script he could manage. She could hardly ever read his handwriting- but this was an improvement.

_ Alice,  _

_ Congratulations on making the house team! We’re so proud. That trick you pulled with the fireplace in September was wicked- I had your mum show me how it’s done. Maybe I can talk to you sometime, eh?  _

Alice grinned a little, imagining her dad’s head floating in the Hufflepuff common room’s hearth writhed in flame. It was the stuff of nightmares. 

_ Anyway, tell me about school! Do you like it? What is your favorite class so far? How do you like your professors?  _

_ You’ll be home for holiday faster than you think, so make sure you study hard and come home safely to us!  _

_ Miss you sweetheart, _

_ Dad _

__

With a smile, she folded her mother and father’s letter back into the envelope and started on Tally’s. 

__

_Alice,  _

_ I hope that horrid Draco Malfoy hasn’t been giving you too much trouble. We’re supposed to go to Christmas dinner at his house can you believe it?! _

_On the other hand, Mum has been a little worried about things in general lately. I’m not sure why, but she won’t talk about it to anyone other than dad and he’s a clam. I’ll keep working on it, and I’ll report back to you as soon as I know. _

_ How’s George by the way? He was rather nice, and I haven’t gotten the chance to thank him properly. Do you think you could give me his last name so that I can write to him? _

_ How are Hermione and Susan? Have you learned any cool spells recently? Write me back as soon as you can- and send more pictures! _

_ All my love,  _

_ Tally _

She folded up the letter with a smile and decided that she would write back to them after class. 

“I think Harry got a broom,” Hermione whispered, meaningfully. 

“What?” Alice asked, her brow furrowed. 

“In the post just now,” she said, looking down the table, her eyes still narrowed. “first years aren’t allowed to have them.” 

“Oh,” She said, nodding. On the other hand, she had planned to tell Hermione that she'd also made the Hufflepuff team... but if she was so upset that Harry had gotten a broom, she should probably exercise caution when talking to her friend about her own Quidditch aspirations. 

Alice decided to stay quiet about it. For now.

 

* * *

 

Bentley enjoyed spending his days skulking about the castle as far away from the children as he could possibly manage. Weeks ago, he’d met Mrs. Norris in a secluded corridor near a high parapet which he’d overheard in casual conversation was called the Astronomy Tower. She’d been terribly kind to him and showed him her favorite spot to hunt for mice. 

He was terribly confused about all of the ghosts that seemed to linger here and there, but the one that confused him most of all was Peeves. The poltergeist could be found unscrewing chandeliers, frightening students, tugging at carpets to send the people walking on them flying, and sometimes tugging on the tails and long droopy sleeves of robes and cloaks just to be a general annoyance.

_That bloody fool was_ always _causing a ruckus._

Bentley had very much taken to the old cat and accompanied her on her daily and nightly surveillance runs of the castle grounds. In that time, he’d been fed two cans of tuna every day by Mrs. Noris’s elderly owner in addition to all of the mice. He’d seen many students out of bed after hours (some of these students with whom his very own _Alice_ willfully consorted) and many other strange inexplicable things which he was forced to admit were caused by _magic_ including a three-headed dog on the third floor which... he didn’t even _want_ to talk about. Whisperings about a thief afoot were popular with the older witches and wizards and the whisperings grew louder and louder with every passing day. 

Perhaps he ought to say _something_ to Alice about it. He’d avoided the subject for weeks out of fear of frightening her. These were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he watched Alice struggle to sleep from the very first night she arrived at Hogwarts. The mandrake root Mrs. Norris suggested he leave under her bed was helping her to forget the dreams once she woke. It was all he could do, for he hated to pry- and Alice rarely told him anything anymore. 

To be fair, he was always off on his own adventures, too. Either that, or sleeping in a deserted courtyard, or near Hufflepuff common room’s crackling hearth. He supposed that he should make time to talk to her about the goings on in the castle- if she were put in harm’s way because of information he’d withheld from her... he’d never forgiven himself.

So Bentley decided- he was going to tell her. Tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

That night after dinner, Alice loaded her camera with new film and blank photos, put the books from home on her nightstand, and unfurled the purple blanket (which was made of a very warm velvety material) over her bed. She left the macaroons under her pillow.

_“Alice?”_ A voice in her head asked. It was a voice she hadn’t heard in quite some time. Bentley was sitting just on top of her trunk. His green eyes glittered in the lamplight. _“Alice, we need to talk.”_

“I agree.” She whispered, happy to talk to her sarcastic little friend again. “I’m so sorry, Bentley- I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks- are you eating alright?” 

_“Of course,”_ he replied. _“Too much, actually- between the mice and the tuna...”_  

Alice laughed quietly and looked around. The dorm was oddly empty which meant that she’d have a bit of spare time to talk to her cat! “I was just about to sit down to write letters home- and do a bit of practice for charms. We’re going to be learning spells at the end of the week.” She sat down on her bed and spread out with her letters from home, spare parchment, her charms book, wand, and a muggle ballpoint pen. “So, what’s going on?” 

Bentley divulged, in full, his wanderings with Mrs. Norris- and his eavesdropping on the professorship.

“A thief?” Asked Alice, “at Hogwarts?” 

_“They have this three-headed dog upstairs guarding something,”_ he said. _“And all of your professors are worried that they’re going to come in here and try to steal whatever it is that the dog is hiding. I tried to follow the headmaster into his office to hear more, but Mrs. Norris absolutely wouldn’t allow that. Potter, Weasley, Granger, and that Longbottom boy were out after curfew the other night and stumbled upon that dog.”_

“Goodness! That’s why Hermione was rattled today, I expect. She’s worried about them.”

“I want you to stay out of it, do you hear me, Alice?”

“Alright,” Alice sighed, “I’ll try.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd the plot thickens.


	9. Something Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I want to apologize. I completely forgot that I hadn't put up this chapter yet. It's been done for weeks.  
> I have been incredibly busy with work and a novel and a few other little things I've been working on including cosplays and other fics, so it's been hard to keep everything straight.  
> I do hope you'll forgive the sporadic updates. Believe me, it's driving me crazy, too.

Halloween morning came in with a chilly blustering wind from the north; the air was thick with the heady smell of decaying autumn leaves mingling with the scent of fresh rain and damp earth. Inside the warm and cozy Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory, Alice's classmates lay asleep- enjoying the last precious minutes of rest which their schedules allowed them. All except, of course, for Alice who had been woken by the sweet smell of pumpkin and cinnamon which wafted beneath and between the barrel door and into the common room from the kitchens just down the corridor.  

Bentley’s spot at the end of her bed was vacant- leaving only a Bentley-sized dent on the thick down comforter.  

The conversation she'd had with her elusive cat the night before still rang in her ears; a thief at Hogwarts? A three-headed dog? Why hadn’t Hermione told her any of that? She tried not to feel hurt- suspecting that her friend probably had not told her for the same reason she was upset with Ron and Harry. Out of worry- and fear that she might also get involved in something dangerous.  

Well, Hermione certainly wasn’t wrong about her; Alice did love a good old-fashioned adventure as much as anyone with a curious streak might. Absently, she let out a sigh and stared listlessly up at the ceiling before rolling out of bed. The old hardwood floor was so cold against her feet she thought they might go numb. She rummaged around in her trunk for a pair of socks and decided that she might take a walk to the owlery before class to send the letters, which she'd managed to write hastily the night before, home. 

Now bundled up in her warm dark blue trousers, a mustard colored sweater (which had been given to her last autumn by her grandmother on her father’s side) and a pair of old brown riding boots, she shuffled- letters clenched in hand- out of the Hufflepuff common room, through the old stone cellar, and up a flight of stairs to the main floor.  

She’d never seen the halls so deserted. The castle was covered in the dappled blue light which came in those odd few minutes right before sunrise. Forcing a lump down her throat, she pursed her lips and began to walk to the castle’s back door. An errant thought occurred to her as she walked; she wondered if she could communicate with magical creatures as well as ordinary ones... and if she could, it might be a good idea to  pay the Cerberus a visit tonight (once everyone had gone to sleep of course) to see if the beastie knew anything about what it was hiding.  

The walk to the owlery had been a blustery one. The old open stone silo looked as if it used to be used to house hay and wheat during winter months in days of yore. Three times, she’d nearly been blown off her feet by an unrepentant gale. Leaves howled through the crisp air, and the sky was a pale cloudless blue.  

A great warmth hit her upon stepping into the owlery- many of the birds were comfortably fast asleep. However, one rather testy brown and white barn owl flapped over to her upon seeing her in the doorway, alighting on a pedestal nearby. It snapped its beak at her and extended one talon out.  

_What are you waiting for, human? Give me your letter!_

Unable to repress a smile, Alice outfitted the raptor with a bit of spare string and her letters and whispered her address and her thanks to it in hushed tones. The owl responded with an excited little jump and a flap of its wings before it zoomed out one of the square windows, and up into the sky- disappearing from sight.  

 “Quite a way you’ve got with the beasties, eh?” A gruff voice from deeper inside the owlery boomed, making Alice jump in fright.  

“Oh- erm,” Alice muttered, embarrassed. “N-not really.”  

“It’s not every day I see someone wit’ the talent of conversin’ wit’ ‘em other than  meself ‘o course,” they went on, their voice sounding very familiar. Heavy footsteps and an impossibly tall shadow fell over her, and she looked up to meet the shiny black eyes of Rubeus Hagrid- the man that had corralled all of her classmates into boats to sail across the lake near two months ago. He wore a dirty white shirt under a heavy brown leather vest, and brown trousers tucked into black muck-boots. He was carrying a silver tin pail- and it was squeaking ****.

“Mr. Hagrid-“  

Hagrid laughed extending a large hand to her, “Ya can call me Hagrid, just Hagrid!”  

“I remember you from the docks,” Alice smiled, shaking his hand with two hands- because doing it with one was a little silly, “I’m Alice Silverstone, Hufflepuff house.”  

“Hufflepuff, eh?" Hagrid said thoughtfully scratching his chin. "Yer a firs’ year, ain’t ya, Alice?”  

“Yes, sir.”  

“Sir,” Hagrid chuckled a little at her formality. “Well, if ya’d like to earn some extra credit, I’d love to have ya help me with summat after classes sometimes. Ye’d need permission o’course, but jus’ the same.” 

“Really? With animals?”  

“But o'course! It’d be a lot easier wit’ ya helpin’ me…” Hagrid trailed off. “Well, permission firs’ then I’ll tell ya what I need ya for. I’ll have professor Sprout write ya a letter.” 

“Yes, sir! Thank you!” 

Hagrid grinned- and she knew because his eyes got all wrinkly. His smile was obscured by his large black beard.  

“Classes should be startin’ soon, so ya best be runnin’ along now.”  

“Alright,” she replied with a big smile, taking the chance to look into the bucket he was carrying. Live mice! She expected that they were for the owls. “Thank you for feeding them, Hagrid- they’re really happy here.” 

 

The day could not have been any better. 

Having completed and turned in her paper for transfiguration to a very interested professor McGonagall, Alice went on her merry way to potions class with daydreams of the evening feast on her mind- especially the pudding. She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice that Draco had been calling to her quite meanly from across the corridor. Draco, however, was rather surprised that she hadn’t been expelled along with Harry Potter for the stunt she pulled at flying practice.  

Alice looked as if her mind was somewhere very far from there as she walked, and she was smiling a little too ****much for Draco’s liking. Ushering Crabbe and Goyle to follow him as he all but trod on her heels, the blond boy grabbed her arm. A high-pitched scream left Alice’s mouth as she jumped forward out of his grasp. Draco snickered when she turned and glared at him. Crabbe and Goyle were at his flanks with churlish grins of their own. Many students who were loitering or on their way to classes began to look over at them in askance.

“Draco!”  

“You’re jumpy, rubbish bin!” Draco sneered. “What’s the matter? See a ghost?”  

“I’d rather see a ghost than you!” Alice retorted hotly, stomping away. 

“Don’t be so mad,” he called, running after her, closing his hand around her wrist. She turned quickly and glared at him, still flushing.  

“What do you want?”  

He looked less smug now, away from Crabbe and Goyle, “my mother told me that your family will be joining us for Christmas dinner.”  

Alice went quiet, and she shrugged, sheepishly. “Our mothers like each other, so I think we owe it to them to... at least try to be cordial to each other that evening if we can.” 

“Yes, I agree.” Draco paused, looking over his shoulder for Crabbe and Goyle- not finding them there seemed to encourage him to say more, “I think there was some bad blood between your mother and my father a long time ago, but it’s been thirteen years since all that.”  

“Bad blood?” Alice asked, “what for?”  

Draco shook his head with a shrug, “I dunno.” She nodded and they continued to look at each other for another moment before he let go. “I’ll... erm, see you in class.”  

“Okay,” she said, a little awkwardly, before sweeping off down the hallway towards Snape’s classroom.  

 

Fortunately for Alice, it had been a good day. She and Neville managed to craft an excellent sleeping draft. Even Snape seemed impressed. Even though he didn’t award either of them house points, he did offer them a small smile before moving on to try Draco and Crabbe’s concoction. Crabbe had stirred the ingredients about five times too many- much to Draco’s chagrin. 

After class, Snape held Alice back to talk with her. This made her very uneasy, but she really had no choice.  

“You’ve improved,” he said, tapping his finger on the cauldron. “I believe you’ve had a good influence on Longbottom as well.”  

“It’s all thanks to you, sir. The extra assignments have really helped.”  

He pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes, “I must make you are aware, Miss Silverstone, that I do not take obsequiousness very well.”  

Alice blinked, “I was being serious, sir.” 

Droning, Snape swept back to the front of the room, and picked up a book from his desk, and swept back to place it on her own desk. Alice recognized it as the library’s copy of  Moste Potente Potions in which she, Hermione, and Susan had found Auger’s Deafness Draught. “Where did you find this book?”  

“It was on a shelving cart.” She answered with a frown. 

“Ah,” he said, “Unfortunately Madam Pince informed me that this book should have been shelved immediately back into the Restricted section- which is only open to professors and seventh years. I cannot allow first-year students to make anything from this book as it stands. I’m afraid you’ll have to do without it.”  

Alice sighed, feeling the air deflate out of her, “I understand.”  

“I did promise you your notebook back if you successfully brewed a potion, and you did- so,” he took her colorful notebook out of his cloak and shoved it into her hands. “Don’t let me see it in my classroom again.”  

She felt her eyes go wide, and she clutched the book to her chest. “Thank you, sir.”  

“You can go. If you hurry, you’ll make your charms class,” he said. Alice nodded and turned to leave- rather hurriedly. “And Miss. Silverstone?” He called, she turned to look at him once more.  

“Sir?”  

“Take caution about what you write down in the future,” he said. “Some dark places are more dangerous than others.” Alice pursed her lips, colored, and hurried out the door. She did not notice until much later, however, that Professor Snape had torn a single page out of her notebook. On it, Alice had scribbled down;  

_Who is the Dark Lord and why is mum afraid of him?_

 

In charms, they were to learn the levitation spell, one which Alice knew quite well. She was paired with Harry while Seamus was paired with Dean. Strangely, she was a little nervous- she hadn’t spoken to Harry properly since flying practice.  

“I’m so glad you weren’t expelled,” she confided quietly as Professor Flitwick gave his abridged history lesson on the origins of the levitation charm.  

“No,” Harry smiled, in hushed tones. “I was made Seeker for Gryffindor house!”  

“Really?” Alice grinned, clasping her hands together with a relieved smile. “Congratulations! You got a broom the other day, didn’t you?”  

“Professor McGonagall gave me a Nimbus 2000,” he responded excitedly. “Would you like to take it for a go sometime? I haven’t tried it out myself but the way you fly? I trust you.“  

“Oh, Harry,” Alice giggled. “No- I’m only a novice, really. It’s your broom- I wouldn’t dream of-“  

“Ahem,” Professor Flitwick intoned, disrupting their conversation, turning the class’s attention to them. They both colored, embarrassed. Hermione sighed, shaking her head at Alice before returning her attention to Flitwick. “I’m sure your conversation can wait until after class, can’t it?”  

“Yes, sir. Sorry,” they said at once.  

“Very good, then,” the elderly gnome said, his face brightening again. “As I was saying; in medieval Europe, Latin spells were used most commonly…” He rambled on about the history of the spell until he began the practical portion; teaching the class how to cast it. Most spells required the swish and flick wand movement. The levitation spell was no different.  

 

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Harry tried on the white feather in front of him- once and twice, but his wand movements weren’t exactly correct. Alice chewed on her lip, watching some of her other classmates attempt the spell- none of which were successful. Ron Weasley was even more hopeless… Hermione was trying to show him how to perform it properly, except… Ron didn’t like being told what to do.  

“Erm- might I make a small suggestion?” Alice asked Harry.  

“Sure,” he replied sheepishly.  

“Try the spell with a little more of an upward curved swish- like this,” she picked up her wand from the table, and gave it a good swish, “wingardium leviosa.” She said, bringing the tip of her wand down very gently- and just like that, the feather in front of her floated easily up- but she wasn’t the only one. Hermione had managed to do it as well. Flitwick praised them both. When the girls made eye contact, they persed their lips at each other and looked away.   

“Well done, Alice,” Harry said with a grin, rolling the sleeves of his robes up a smidge. “Wingardium leviosa!” He intoned, copying her movements near exactly- and his feather rose up as well. He blinked a few times, staring up at his own feather. “I did it- I did it!” He cheered smiling over at her.  

“Excellent job, Harry-“  

All of a sudden, crackle of heat and a flash of light heralded the scent akin to hair burning. Seamus had burnt his feather quite to a crisp.  

“I think we may need another feather over here, Professor,” Dean said, trying his hardest not to laugh at Seamus’s soot-covered shocked-looking face. She and Harry looked at each other and stifled a grin between them.  

 

After class, she waited up for Hermione who… still seemed a little upset with Alice. 

“I don’t see how you can condone it,” she said stiffly, holding her books to her chest as they walked out of the room- Alice had to jog a little to keep up with her.  

“Professor McGonagall gave him the broom, Hermione. He’s been let on to the house team!”  

At this, Hermione went silent, “I thought first years weren’t allowed.”  

“So did I,” Alice agreed. “But if the teachers have allowed it, who are we to say anything to the contrary?”  

Hermione sighed, “you’re right, of course.”  

“You’re only worried,” Alice said, attempting to assuage her friend’s nerves.  

Hermione gave her a small smile, “well, I ought to go apologize to Harry anyway,” she said. “Come with me?”  

“Of course,” Alice said.  

In the sea of students that had overrun the courtyard, they managed to find Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Dean by locating the bright orange of Ron’s hair coincidentally.  

“There they are,” Hermione said running ahead to catch up, Alice followed after her.  

“Hermione, wait up!” Alice called, picking up her knees to keep up with her friend- who was a bit faster on her feet than she first supposed.  

All of a sudden Hermione slowed to a walk, nearly making Alice nearly collide with her. She was about to ask if she was okay until she heard Ron say, “it’s levi-  _**oh-** _ sa, not levio-sar, it’s no wonder she hasn’t got any friends!” 

“Let’s go, Alice,” Hermione said stiffly, walking past them close enough to jostle Ron’s shoulder as she went. Alice tossed Ron a glare as she passed, too.  

“I think they heard you,” she heard Harry say. 

 

After classes that day, Hermione had decided to join Alice in the Hufflepuff common room for studying and hot chocolate in order to avoid Harry and Ron. The Hufflepuff common room was relatively silent- leave for Fauna's soft intonations. She was holding a tarot reading on one of the plush daisy-colored sofas for Carol Windsor, a seventh year, who had applied to work as a secretary in the department of Muggle Affairs and was uncertain of whether or not she was going to be selected for the job. 

Fauna was on good terms with the kitchen staff, so procuring two spare cups of cocoa for Alice and Hermione was a simple feat. The two girls were huddled at one of the candlelit desks pouring over their books when Alice thought it might be a good time to bring up the Malfoy-Resistant Earplugs.  

“Hermione?” Alice ventured.   

“Hm?”  

“I have some bad news.”  

“What’s wrong?” asked Hermione, looking up from her Transfiguration book over which she was practicing wand movements for a spell that would turn an animal into a tea cozy.  

“Erm, well,” Alice muttered. “Snape pulled me aside after class today, and told me that we couldn’t make the Deafness Draught.”  

Hermione frowned, “why not? He agreed to help us, didn’t he?”  

“Well,  _Moste Potente Potions_ is a restricted section book. We’re not even allowed to look at the thing until we’re seventh years. Since I found it on a shelving cart, I had no idea…”  

Hermione sighed, “we could have made it- no matter how difficult it was.”  

“That’s what I thought, too... but I suppose- if those are the rules…”  

“Yes,” Hermione sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”  

“But just in case we change our minds and decide to do it anyway...” Alice reached into her satchel and handed Hermione a spare bit or parchment.  

“What’s this?” She asked, pouring over the inky black letters for a moment before the realization set in. Looking up, Hermione looked both shocked and impressed. “Is this-”  

“Auger’s Deafness Draft,” Alice grinned, “I copied it that day in the library. Just in case. Also, it helps me make the potion better... if I write it down. I’ll ask mum and dad for a unicorn horn for Christmas,” Alice added.  

“Brilliant!” Hermione grinned, “we’ll reconvene after the holidays!”  

 

That night, the Great Hall was alight with floating jack-o-lanterns and the ceiling was roiling with thunderous dark storm clouds. Plates were empty awaiting the headmaster’s order, while the gold flatware gleamed in the candlelight. Hermione had gone to sit at Gryffindor table- even though she would have far preferred to sit with Alice and Susan.  

“I can hardly wait for the pumpkin juice,” Susan clapped cheerily from across the table, “and the pudding!”  

“I completely agree,” replied Alice glumly.   

“The pudding is always delicious!” A voice from behind Alice said, making her jump. It was August Lemons! He looked as if he'd gotten into a wrestling match with a garden gnome, but it was him just the same.  

“August! Where on Earth have you been?”  

“Six inches deep in textbooks,” the sixth year grinned, sliding into the empty spot next to her. “All of my classes are NEWT levels. It’s rather stressful actually. So,” he said, changing the subject casually. “I hear Madam Hooch scouted you for Quidditch! Are you ready for try-outs tomorrow?”  

“Oh-” Alice gasped, getting very pale. She’d been so distracted that she hadn’t even thought to practice. “Erm, yes,” she lied. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”  

“Good. We don’t know where you’ll fit in this time, but we are in dire need of a beater. Lorcan Drexel left us last year, and he was the best one we’ve had in ages... but...” he looked at her with pursed lips. “You might be too small.”  

Alice flushed, staring down at her hands, “don’t worry,” August revised, nudging her shoulder with his. “All of the other positions are up for grabs, too- just as long as you’re not gunning for mine!”  

The sound of a spoon tapping against glass silenced the hall gradually. The faculty had finally filed in, and the headmaster was standing.  

“We have prepared a special feast for you tonight, so let your hearts be light and enjoy!” The feast appeared out of thin air- just as it always did when the headmaster flicked his wrists. There was ham, roast beef, garlic potatoes, cooked vegetables, and freshly picked apples. Chocolate pudding, cakes, truffles, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, and licorice were on display as well. Alice’s mouth watered as she piled a little of everything onto her plate.  

She and August were in the middle of a conversation about the stats of each house team when the doors of the Great Hall were thrown open. 

“Troll in the dungeon! Troll in the dungeon!” A panicked voice shouted- it was a man wearing dark robes and a turban around his head. The wizened old headmaster rose to his feet as clamoring and panicked whispers rose among the students. “I just thought someone ought to know...” he said before fainting.  

“A troll?” Alice asked, alarmed as students began to scream and cry out as they ran for the doors.  

“Everyone, don’t panic, please!” The headmaster said, in a loud firm voice which made everyone pause for a moment as the cries and talking died down. “All heads of houses, please take your respective houses to their dormitories immediately. Proceed to your houses with the utmost caution.”  

As the head boy and girl of Hufflepuff house corralled everyone together trying to get them all out the door in an orderly fashion, Alice found herself looking for Hermione... but she couldn’t see her in the sea of people. There wasn’t a sign of her at all.  

“Alice!” A voice said, someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her aside. It was Ron! Harry flanked him and looked very guilty.  

“What do  _you_ want?” Demanded Alice pointedly.

“It’s Hermione,” Ron sighed. “I said something to her tonight and she stormed off... I don’t know where she went. She doesn’t know about the troll.”  

Alice’s anger at the boy dissolved to be replaced by horror, “oh no- we have to find her-  _NOW_ !”  


	10. Much Ado About Quidditch

“Wait!” Cried a voice from somewhere in the mayhem. A porky hand reached out to grab Alice’s robes. It was Neville! He looked pale and out of breath, “I saw Hermione run into the girl’s room about twenty minutes ago. We should tell a teacher-”

“There’s no time, Neville,” Harry said quickly. “She could get hurt!”

“He’s right,” agreed Alice. “We have to act quickly.”

“B-but,” stammered Neville as Alice, Ron, and Harry sprinted down the hallway. Letting out a little forlorn sigh, he ran after them- albeit a little more slowly.

The sound of porcelain shattering echoed down the hall as the trio scampered into the girl’s bathroom alcove. A hulking mass of gray flesh and pustules loomed over the bathroom like the giant from _Jack and the Beanstalk_. At any moment, Alice expected the thing to rasp, " _fee-fi-fo fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!"_

This creature must have been the troll Professor Quirrell had been raving about at supper.

It swung a heavy looking club to and fro, bringing it down on the sinks which shattered under the splintering force. A small ball of half cloak, half frizzy dark hair cowered and scampered away- dodging bits of porcelain.  

“Hermione!” Alice cried. Hermione looked up in shock- and so did the mountain troll; a look of confusion crossed its dull face.

“Run!” Her friend shrieked. At this, the troll let out a deep wail and raised his club to try to bludgeon Hermione again.

“We have to do something!” Ron shouted. The three of them whipped out their wands and Harry charged at the troll with a battle cry, leaping up and wrapping his arms around its thick neck.

“Harry!” Alice screamed as the troll slung him, his arms pinwheeling an attempt to throw Harry off while trying to stay upright itself. The beast let out an infuriated grating sound, grabbed Harry by the ankle, and pulled his arm back to swing his club at him. Neville had chosen this particular moment to barrel into the bathroom. He let out a squeak as he took in his surroundings.

“Get a professor, Neville!” Alice shouted.

“Y-yeah,” he chirped and high-tailed it right out of the restroom.

“Do something!” Harry yelled at the two of them.

“What?!” Ron demanded.

“Anything!” Cried Harry, dodging another swing.

“Swish and flick, Ron!” Hermione called.

“Great idea- cast levitation,” Alice instructed, speaking quickly. “I’ll stop Harry from hitting the ground.”

“R-right,” Ron stammered, pointing his wand with a swish at the troll’s gnarled club. “Wingardium Leviosa!”

And as sure as the sun was a great ball of gas floating a million miles away, the club was ripped out of the troll’s gray hands and suspended in the air. The troll looked up at it vacantly. 

"Now, Ron!" Alice yelled.

"Now wha-?"

The moment Ron lost focus, the club, now released from his spell, was sent hurtling towards the troll’s too-small cranium.

_Thwack!_

The troll staggered while Alice held her wand at the ready for the moment that the troll released Harry.

“Aresto Momentum!” Alice shouted with a flick of her wrist, giving Harry enough time to right himself so that he didn’t land on his head. He scrambled under the sink and grabbed Hermione protectively while the troll fell flat on its stomach. Hermione was shaking as Harry helped her to her feet.

“Well done, Ron!” Alice grinned, holding her hand up for a high five. He smiled and clapped his hand against hers. The moment they did this, more than half of the Hogwarts faculty stumbled into the bathroom with Neville at the helm. Hermione lingered behind Harry as he reclaimed his wand which was buried in the nasal cavity of the troll, and wiped his wand, which was covered in a viscous mucus, off on his cloak- but not before making a disgusted comment about troll bogies.

“Good heavens!” Professor McGonagall cried, in shock. “What happened here?”

“It was my fault!” Alice and Hermione said at once. The girls looked at each other, and professor McGonagall blinked in surprise at them.

“Ladies?”

“I went out looking for the troll,” Hermione said evenly. “If Harry, Ron, Alice, and Neville hadn’t found me, I’d probably be dead.”

Alice’s mouth dangled open at the lie. “Neville told me to wait for a teacher before I went to help, but I ignored him because I was afraid that Hermione might have been hurt. Ron and Harry were just making sure that neither of us got killed. I’m really sorry,” she whispered.

“You should have notified a teacher first," Professor Snape said, his face pale as he scanned the body of the troll with a furrowed brow. “But it seems that we’ve all learned a few lessons today, haven’t we?” Alice bowed her head.

“That was very foolish, Miss. Silverstone, Miss Granger.” Professor McGonagall interjected, “but a moment later… and this could have ended very badly.” Readjusting her gaze to sweep over them, “there are not many first years that could have taken on a fully-grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. Five house points will be awarded to each of you. For sheer dumb luck. Return to your house- leave for Miss. Silverstone.”

All of them- including Neville, exchanged pitying glances before quickly exiting the bathroom. Ron, Hermione, and Harry all patted her on the shoulder as they filed out, leaving Alice feeling very small and very alone.

“I’m sorry professor, I-”

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows, “my dear, you are not in my house nor are you in my classroom. I cannot deliver punishments to Hufflepuffs. Professor Sprout?”

A short woman with curly dark hair and an earthy colored cloak moved up through the throng of teachers to stand before them with a look of such deep disappointment that it almost made Alice cry.

“You have already been scolded appropriately, I should think.”

“Yes, Professor,” Alice said, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

“That said, I have decided to award you five house points for valiantly stepping forward to protect a friend in need- however, you will serve one night’s worth of detention this coming weekend with Hagrid,” Professor Spout said in a much softer voice, a smile turning up the side of her mouth. “He told me you were quite adept with animal communication.”

“Yes, Professor,” Alice whispered, bowing her head and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Breathing a little sigh, she felt a relieved that her punishment was not worse. It was even more fortunate that they had not seen it fit to prevent her from attending Quidditch tryouts. Very fortunate indeed.

* * *

 

Alice decided that venturing to the third floor tonight would be very poor idea taking into account the trouble she’d found herself in already. If she was caught, it was a big possibility that Madam Hooch might change her mind about scouting her for the Hufflepuff house team.

But there was a thief afoot in the castle… shouldn’t she try to do something to stop them? Wouldn’t the teachers understand?

Wandering back to Hufflepuff House in the dark was not her favorite thing, in fact, she found herself quite lost in the process. As she meant to take the stairs down to the kitchens, they instead changed and took her up instead.

Licking her lips, she searched around for any of the portraits that looked familiar to her, but found none. No- she’d never been to this part of the castle before at all. Alice pursed her lips, feeling an uncomfortable hot flush on her cheeks as embarrassment and fear burned in her stomach. She slid with her back against the nearest wall and cried as quietly as she could manage so that she didn’t wake the sleeping portraits that hung above her head.

 _Why had this happened?_ She was only trying to help. She never wanted to break the rules or hurt anyone.

“What do we have here? A student out of bed?” A mean voice asked from just overhead. Alice looked up tearily to find the silvery form of a poltergeist known as Peeves hovering over her with a cruel grin.

“I’m lost,” she sniffled, a little rudely. Well, _Peeves_ was rude. She’d tried to be nice to him before, but he only played tricks on her in return.

“That’s what they all say,” he mused, swirling up and around an old chandelier that hung dustily overhead. Alice huffed.

“Will you tell me how to get to the Hufflepuff common room from here?” Alice asked, a little too hopefully.

“No,” Peeves grinned simply. “But I _will_ tell Filch about you!” He cackled as he bounced away to tattle on her. “Student out of bed! Student out of bed!” He chorused in a sing-song voice. 

She simply couldn’t get into any more trouble! Rising up, she dusted off her cloak and hurried away into an abandoned corridor and in front of her was an expansive blank wall. More tears welled in Alice’s eyes and she wiped at them furiously. The corridor seemed to go on for a very long way in either direction- she appeared, for the most part, trapped. She began to pace back and forth crying quietly and bitterly to herself- not knowing what else to do.

How she wished she were in her own bed- safe and out of trouble. Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw the wall change. Alice rubbed her eyes clear and blinked in fascination as the once empty wall made way for an intricately carved door made of heavy oak with an even more intricate golden knob.

Her mouth hung open in shock.

How could this be right?

At that moment, she could hear Peeves returning from his gallivant and with him, Mr. Filch and his crotchety, cantankerous voice. She quickly pushed open the door and slipped inside, making sure to close it behind her.

It was a large bedroom- much bigger than any room she’d ever stayed in by herself. The ceiling towered above with bare beam rafters decorated with blue and white banners and a coat of arms. It almost looked as if it would have belonged in a fine old house in the countryside. The floor was wooden and warm while, in a large stone hearth, a happy fire crackled; in front of _that_ was a parlor space sitting upon a beautiful red persian rug with two sofas and a tea table.

Under a portrait of a sleeping rainbow-winged faerie was a large bed with a pile of the fluffiest pillows Alice had ever seen: some were red and white striped, while others were black and silver. Some had tassels, and a few even looked like candies. A red plush duvet lay folded carefully away from the pillows - as if it were waiting just for her.

“...you sure you saw somebody around here?” Filch asked in that wheedling voice of his, his shoes scuffling on the floor nearby. Alice’s blood turned cold so quickly that she felt frozen in place.

 _“Please don’t let them find me,”_ she whispered to herself, closing her eyes.

“Of course I’m _sure.”_ Peeves cawed, obviously annoyed that she’d run.

 _“Please don’t let them find me.”_ She whispered again. When she opened her eyes, the door that had let her inside vanished, and so had the voices of Filch and Peeves. Alice let out a little laugh of relief, and looked up to the ceiling, “thank you!”

The air seemed to tingle after she’d said this and she couldn’t help but smile.

Whatever this place was, she was happy for it. 

Alice disrobed and draped her cloak on the back of one of the love seats and kicked off her shoes and stockings. When she turned back to the bed, she found that a set of silver and black pajamas (which were exactly her size) had been spread out on the red duvet. She smiled again, put them on, and went to sleep.

 _What a thoughtful, possibly sentient, room,_  she thought.Stranger things have happened.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, she was awoken by the tinkling of an alarm clock. A nightstand that had not been there the night before now waited like a staunch guardian beside her bed and on top of it, an ornate golden clock which told her that it was already seven thirty. A silver hairbrush waited next to the clock, shimmering as if asking her to use it. She pulled the hairbrush through her hair and rushed to pull on her cloak, stockings, and shoes once more. They somehow felt a little fresher than they had the day before. On the small tea table was a box of biscuits not unlike the kind grandmother would gift her almost every year for Christmas. Opening them, with a quick backward glance at the clock, she grabbed a handful and hurried out the oak door which had reappeared just as she desired to leave.

The floor she’d found herself on was, in fact, the seventh. A slew of Gryffindors walked past her as the oak door disappeared behind her, but before she could peer around to find any of her friends, a pair of arms wrapped her in a big hug.

“Alice!” Chirped Hermione, holding her at arm’s length. “ I never got the chance to thank you for what happened last night-”

“Aw, that’s what friends are for,” said Alice waving off her apology with a shrug and a grin.

Hermione frowned, “what are you doing up here, by the way? Isn’t Hufflepuff house near the kitchens?”

“You’ll never believe what I found-”

“Hermione! Alice! Wait up,” Ron and Harry said running up to the two of them, oddly cheerful.

“Tough luck,” Ron sympathized in a low voice to Alice as they all walked to transfiguration. “What is Professor Sprout having you do?”

Alice shrugged, “I’ve got to help Hagrid with something over the weekend, I expect it should be nice.”

Ron shook his head as if he were offended that she’d find detention _fun._ It was too early to say if it would be but she had a good feeling about it.

“Say,” Harry said, conspiratorily, walking between Alice and Hermione in a low voice. “D’ya think you might be interested in helping us?”

“Ooh, with what?”

“Oh, no, no, _no-_ we are _not_ getting her involved!” Hermione cried as they descended the stairs to the sixth floor.

“Why not?” Harry asked, genuinely confused. “She’s obviously brilliant- it’d be good to have her on board.”

Alice blushed, looking down at her toes. That’d been nice of him to say, but if Hermione didn’t want her with them, there must have been a reason.

“It’s okay, Harry,” she said quietly. “Thank you, but-”

“Nonsense,” Ron said. “You used a second-year charm last night- you probably know loads of spells.”

“Ron, she’s already in trouble for saving me, it wouldn’t be fair.”

Ron harrumphed.

“Well, if it has anything to do with the fact that there’s a thief in the castle, I’m in.” Alice whispered.

The trio looked shocked, “how did you know about-” Hermione gasped.

“My cat, Bentley, is friends with Mrs. Norris,” she shrugged. “He told me what he knew about it, which wasn’t much-”

“You cat _talks?”_ Ron blurted, loudly enough to turn heads. They were nearly in front of McGonagall's classroom, so they all came to a halt to avoid being heard by the professor. She shushed him urgently and shook her head.

“All animals talk,” Alice told him, before rephrasing. “Else… I can talk to animals.”

“Wow,” Hermione whispered. “That’s really rare.”

“Well, if it helps, I’m happy to try to find out what else he might know.”

 

* * *

 

Alice managed to get through the day without Malfoy pestering her and stifled the fears of her Housemates who were deathly concerned about where she’d been the night before.

Before potions class began, Susan tapped her in the corridor on her way to charms, “do make sure that you meet with August Lemons at lunch so that he can show you the ins and outs of Quidditch. He looked for you last night, but you were off in your magical spare room.” 

Of course, Alice already knew the ins and outs of Quidditch thanks to her mother, but she was much too nice to say anything as August passionately described the intricacies of the game on the pitch which was a grand affair in its own right. It was nice to see his face light up about _something._ She hardly ever saw the older boy anymore- he was far too busy studying for his sixth-year classes to pay her much mind.

The pitch was an elliptical field with three gargantuan goal posts of differing heights that towered stories above the ground on each side- a little like football. Instead of one ball, there were four. One was used to score, two were enchanted to be nuisances, and one was enchanted to be near impossible to catch if you didn’t have the right eye.

It was so much more intimidating in person.

“Madam Hooch said you were right good on a broom, so show me a hover.” August said as some of the other team hopefuls began to filter onto the pitch. All older, bigger, and probably stronger than her.

Alice wanted to ask him more but decided she could wait for another time. Swallowing, she took the Cleansweep August held out to her, got on, and kicked off from the ground a little more gently than she would have otherwise. She pulled up her legs and magic held her suspended.

August nodded, “good. Okay, now shoot straight up into the air in a corkscrew and then touch back down gradually. I don't want you to break a leg before the season officially starts.”

She had to force herself not to flinch, and instead tilted her broom upwards and leaned forward as far as she could. The broom jolted up and she let out an exhilarated laugh as wind rush past her face and tangled knots in her long dark hair. Alice soared higher and higher, and then she began to lean to her right and the blue sky turned into a blur. When she started feeling sick, she righted herself and dropped in a sharp arch to the ground.

 _OH NO - SLOW DOWN!_  Some of the people on the pitch cheered as she corrected her trajectory and flew in a large downward spiral pulling back to reduce speed.

She touched down right in front of August who was laughing with his hands in his hair. “We're saved!" He cried, picked her up in a bear hug and twirled her around before she could even get a word out. Alice blushed deep crimson as people clapped around them. "That was fantastic!" He set her back down with his hands on his hips. "Now- what position would you like to try first?”

Alice pursed her lips, getting her bearings and looked down at the four balls in the trunk he’d dragged along with him out of Madam Hooch’s office. Her mother had been a beater. She would play beater. It seemed only right. The bludgers, however, strongly disagreed and they did a lovely job of looking as unfriendly as possible as they jolted in their restraints.

“I want to try out for beater,” she said quietly.

“Ah,” he said, reaching down to the ground for one of the bats she’d seen him holding earlier. “Now stand firmly, and grip it tight. When it comes at you, swing hard. Got it?”

Alice nodded once before August released one of the bludgers. It came screeching out of the trunk ta top speed and whirled around erratically before gunning straight for her. Alice gritted her teeth and braced herself for the swing, pretending that it was Malfoy’s head before swinging the bat hard. It hit the ball with a loud THAK and the bludger arched high in the air.

Though Alice hadn’t been the best player that day, she certainly hadn’t been the worst. No matter how well she played, she would not be allowed to be an official player this year. However, she would be expected to attend all practices and scrimmages and that was good enough for her. 

 

 

A few days later, she received a letter via paper plane from Harry, which very nearly crash landed in her potato soup had she not grabbed it in time. With a sheepish laugh, she offered her housemates an apologetic shrug before pursing her lips and unfolding the plane.

 __Me_ et us in the Gryffindor common room at nine tonight, _  said the letter in Harry's sloppy scrawl. _Make sure you bring your cat._

_-HP_


	11. A Sin for a Curse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I am so sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoy the new chapter. I will be updating next week as well!

That evening after dinner concluded, Alice found herself swept along by the current of students as she tried to figure out how she might slip out of Hufflepuff house after hours. First, of course, she decided to make an appearance in the common room to avoid any suspicion, after which she hoped to slip out with Bentley- unnoticed. The watch on her wrist ticked happily as the second hand inched along and Bentley was curled up asleep on her lap tonight- quite tuckered out from the day’s adventures. She hadn’t the opportunity to ask him if he knew anything more about the thief in the castle, but she knew that if he had an inkling of what she was about to do, that he’d never agree to help.

Once the noisy common room had quieted to the sounds of an occasional page flipping and the happy crackle of the fire in the hearth (over which Helga Hufflepuff sat lounging in her portrait as she busied herself with a small book that Alice couldn’t make out the title of), she decided to slip out. Quietly, she slunk from the warmth of the common room and out the door and the upperclassmen, who were far too enthralled with their studies, were none the wiser.

Alice felt exhilarated sneaking around the castle at night. It was as if she were a young detective going on some grand adventure. She scanned the corridors for any sign of Peeves and, finding none, she slipped in and out of shadows until she finally arrived at Gryffindor house. The lady in the portrait standing guard seemed to be winding down for the night.

“Oh,” said the lady drowsily, blinking awake and leaning forward to get a closer look at her. “Sorry dear, ahem. What’s the password if you please?”

“Caput Draconis,” she said, remembering the words from when she and Hermione had gone to study in the common room on Halloween. The lady gave her a dainty little nod and the portrait swung open.

The Gryffindor common room was just as she remembered it, except much quieter. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were talking by the fire quietly among themselves when she climbed quietly through the portrait hole, but turned when they heard the portrait swing shut.

“Alice!” Hermione chirped quietly as the other girl scurried over with Bentley who was still sleeping in her arms. Harry and Ron waved her over. 

"I have news," Harry said quietly. "I saw Snape talking to Filtch the other day about the dog. He was injured," he told her quietly. "I think he's after whatever the dog is hiding. I think he was bitten."

Alice pursed her lips, "that's a pretty big accusation- which makes it even more imperative that we get to the bottom of this. We have to have evidence." 

"Right, so, that's why we need you to see if your cat knows anything," Ron said. 

"That's right, we don't want to go back to the third floor unless we really have to do so," Hermione added. 

“That's a good plan,” she whispered, nodding at them, before laying Bentley down on the rug just in front of the crackling hearth. "Here goes nothing," she muttered to herself with one more look at Harry and Ron.  “Hey buddy,” she said quietly, nudging Bentley awake. “Wake up, we have some questions for you.”

Bentley stirred a little and yawned, blinked drowsily as he stretched. Upon seeing where he currently was, he froze.

“Where have you brought me?” Demanded her cat testily. 

Alice sighed, “the Gryffindor common room. My friends have some questions for you-” Bentley pulled himself upright and narrowed his eyes at her three friends.

“They’re rule breakers, Alice. That ones I told you about. You promised not to get involved-”

“I said I'd _try_ ," she corrected him. "I’m sorry. You have to understand that this is important.”

“Of course it is,” he sputtered. “And it’s dangerous. I’ll not have you meddling in things that will get you killed.”

Alice repeated all of that to the trio.

“He’s right,” Hermione said with a shrug.

“Bentley, do you know what the cerberus is hiding under the trap door?”

“No,” he said icily, the fur on this back raising as he hissed, showing his fangs. The trio sat back, exchanging alarmed glances. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell any of you. My only concern is protecting you, Alice. If anyone tries to get in the way of that, well, I’m afraid I’ll have to incapacitate them.”

“Bentley, please calm down,” Alice told him, before she reiterated that to them a bit of a less threatening way.

“Why do I feel like we’re getting the watered down translations?” Harry cringed.

Ron shrugged, “look, the way I see it is, if he doesn’t know anything, that’s the end of it.”

Alice let out a sigh and nodded, “it’s okay, Bentley. You can go back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. I’ll be along.”

“Oh, no you won’t,” he said stiffly, sitting down in front of her- his tail whipping in annoyance. “I know you, you’re going to go off with these rapscallions and try to talk to that blasted dog for them, aren’t you?”

“That _was_ the plan, Ben.” She shrugged. “So, either you go back to sleep and find me back in bed when you wake up, or you accompany us. It’s up to you.”

Bentley paused, looking at her hopelessly. “You won’t change your mind?”

“Not when people are in trouble.” She told him firmly. He hurrumped and headed for the portrait hole. Alice shrugged, defeated.

“Well?” Bentley called, letting out a mournful meow. “Are you coming or not? The sooner this is over with, the better off I’ll be.”

 

“What do you s’pose it is that Snape’s after?” Ron asked Harry quietly as they made their way stealthily to the third floor.

“I dunno,” Harry replied as he headed the group as they scurried down the moving stairs briskly, “but we might be about to find out.”

 

Alice flinched. This was going to be dangerous.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this again,” Hermione mouthed.

“Me, neither,” Bentley said dryly as he remained perched on Alice’s shoulder. This time, they were not seen by anyone- living or spectral, and the corridor was a dark creepy looking place. They arrived at on old looking wooden door.

“This is it,” Hermione whispered. “Are you sure you want to do this, Alice?”

A shiver went up Alice’s spine and she forced down a lump in her throat, “of course.” Bentley’s fur raised.

“I don’t like this at all, Alice.” Her cat told her. She pressed her cheek to his side.

“I know,” she replied.

“Okay, so the plan is: we go in, ask what it’s hiding and who has been trying to get in, and get out. We’ll figure out what to do with the information after.” Harry said quickly. “Hermione, want to do the honors?”

Hermione nodded, taking her wand out of her robes, “alohamora.”

The door opened and, with a deep halting breath, Alice stepped inside as adrenaline coursed through her veins.  

“You sure she shouldn’t have been sorted into our house?” She heard Ron ask before the door closed behind her.

When her eyes adjusted to the lack of torchlight, she found herself in a round turret room- and taking up more than three-quarters of it was an enormous gray three-headed dog. It appeared to be sleeping.

“Alice,” Bentley cautioned silently. The dog’s ear twitched. Alice licked her lips, her heart throbbing as if it were about to burst. She stepped forward and cleared her throat.

“E-excuse me,” said Alice quietly. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but-” Then the dog blinked- with all six pairs of eyes and let out a growl, rising to its full height. Alice had to crane her neck to keep her eyes on the beastie. Her knees knocked together, and she cleared her throat. “I know how this seems and I’m not after whatever it is you’re hiding. I only want to know why someone has been trying to steal it.”

The cerberus snarled at her with raised hackles. “My job,” it seethed. “Is to deter anyone who walks through the door behind you from approaching any further.”   

“I understand that,” she said, a waver in her voice. “And you are doing a lovely job, but do you know who has attempted to get into the trapdoor under your feet? It was a few days ago, I believe. My friends and I only want to help you protect whatever it is you’re hiding.”

“A likely story, _witch_.”

“I’m in earnest,” she told him, her voice getting a little stronger. “Please. We’re only trying to help.”

The dog stopped growling for a moment, and leaned forward to sniff her. Bentley’s hair raised, his claws digging through her pajamas and he let out a feral warning growl himself. “Your animal cares very much for you,” the dog said, before pulling back. “I trust that you are being sincere.”

Alice nodded.

“Two men came to the tower on All Hallows Eve- one with dark hair fought another in this very room. One, I believe, I bit.”

“Dark hair… Snape?”

The dog didn’t reply, “the other was sickly looking and had his head wrapped… in a scarf.”

“Quirrel,” she whispered, in surprise- a hand flying to her mouth. “Of course- it does make sense now. He warned all of us about the troll.”

“And now, you must leave,” the dog said. “I do not know what I am hiding, other than the fact that it is old and very powerful.” He paused. “I expect if you were trying to steal it, you’d already know what it was.”

_Hm. Quite true._

Alice nodded, “thank you so much for your time, I shan’t bother you again. Good evening.”

She backed out of the room, opened the door, and slipped out. Wordlessly, they exchanged glances and hurried back to Gryffindor common room, and Alice told them everything she’d heard.

 

The next morning, she woke in her own bed to find Bentley curled up on her pillow in the curve of the back of her neck and a tapping at her window. She yawned, and turned to face the window to find a brown barn owl waiting on the verge with a letter tied to it’s talon. She got out of bed, careful so as to not disturb the other girls and her cat who were still fast asleep, and went to the window to unlatch it.

The letter was tied in brown string and had come from Professor Sprout indicating the time of her detention- ten AM. She checked her watch- it was nearly nine! She rushed to put on her stockings, a wooly dark green jumper, her thick gray peacoat, another pair of socks, and the chunky scarf Gran had crocheted for her for her ninth birthday, and slipped on her worn brown boots.

Alice placed a kiss on Bentley’s head and was gone. After she’d had a bit of breakfast, she hurried down Hagrid’s hut which, according to the map on the letter she’d gotten from Professor Sprout this morning, was on the green next to the Quidditch pitch.

Then she remembered; it was also the day was the day of the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin! Her heart fell when she realized that she wouldn’t be present for it but she couldn’t let it deter her. With a new determination, she walked through the open garden gate and knocked twice on the wooden door of the gamekeeper's hut. It swung open to reveal a very pink-cheeked Hagrid wearing daisy-covered pink oven mitts.

“‘Ello, Alice!” Hagrid said cheerily.

“Alright, there Hagrid?”

“O’course, come on in,” he stepped aside to let her into his humble abode. It was quaint, rustic, and smelled of earth and he had a very large old dog named Fang whom Alice liked immediately. After Alice finished the cup of tea Hagrid offered her, he sent her to work in his garden in a pair of his old overalls (which were ridiculously overlarge for Alice) while he searched around his home to procure the things they would need for the task ahead. A task which he had not been at liberty to talk about yet.  

From his garden, she could hear the cheering and feel the energy buzzing in the air from the Quidditch pitch. She let out a little sigh and continued spraying flesh-eating slug repellent over his assortment of seasonal squashes.

“Thanks fer ‘elpin’ me out.” Hagrid said thankfully when he finally emerged from the house from the back stoop where he was just about finished preparing two rucksacks with glass vials, canteens, rope, a box of biscuits, and old worn leather gloves.

“I’m happy to,” she told him in earnest.

“I know it’s na the same as watchin’ Quidditch, but- well…”

She smiled at him, after she sprayed her last pumpkin and hauled the metal canister over to the side of his house. “It’s alright Hagrid- I’m keeping you from watching the match, too. I’m sorry. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll get the play-by-play from Ron afterwards.”

Hagrid smiled through his big beard with a twinkle in his black eyes. “Righ’, well,” he handed her one of the packs. “We’re gonna be in the forest for a few hours today. We’ll get back after lunch.”

Alice nodded, shouldering the pack- suddenly remembering her old school. The one she attended with her sister back in Surrey. She sniffled as tears pricked her eyes, and she wiped them with the back of her hand as the homesickness rushed in.

“You alrigh’?”

“Just uh,” she started. “Remembered my old school- and I erm… well…”

“You miss your family, eh?” Hagrid asked her sympathetically, as he nodded his head for them to get a move on. Alice nodded as they walked through Hagrid’s garden gate in a single file line- Hagrid at the helm.

“I’ll see them in a few weeks when we go on holiday, but… I never even thought I would miss… a world without magic.”

“The muggle world has its charms, I s’pose,” Hagrid conceded, the brittle grass crunching underfoot as they walked past the boundary of the Forbidden Forest, and even though the morning sun was high, it was quickly snuffed out by the thick canopy that now hung over them.

“Yes,” she said, staying close to Hagrid as he detached his lantern from his pack and struck a match from one of the many pockets in his coat. “Most times, people really didn’t understand me, you know? People thought I was odd.” Alice laughed to herself, “but I expect most kids have trouble with that. Being odd.”

“I expect so,” Hagrid said quietly as if to himself. He seemed to be preoccupied with his own problems. A fog had settled over the wood, and she felt a chill worm its way under her coat and sink through her sweater and scarf.

“Say, Hagrid? What are we doing out here? Professor Dumbledore-” A cry rose up through the trees- like the howl of a beast with the sorrow of a human.

“Shh, shh,” Hagrid whispered, raising his lantern up as he peered through the fog. “Get your wand at the ready-”

Alice fumbled to get her wand out of her coat and held it out with a shaking hand, peering around Hagrid’s large frame. She tried to steady it with the other and her mouth went dry.

 _Do I know any fighting spells?_ She thought, racking her brain for them, but her mind was blank. Totally and endlessly blank. Yes, of course she did- but she couldn’t remember them now. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow move. She took a careful chilled breath and turned around slowly with her wand clutched in both hands like she’d seen police officers hold their guns on the TV shows mum and dad watched.

“I saw something Hagrid,” she whispered. And then she saw it again, but this time, it was headed right for her, and it was _galloping_. Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she squeezed her eyes shut. Beside her, Hagrid turned around and hesitated before letting out a sigh.

“Firenze,” he muttered.

“Hagrid,” replied another voice, hard and weathered. She opened her eyes a sliver to find the most magnificent sight. A centaur! Alice blinked up in wonder, and lowered her wand. “A student?” He asked him, looking down at her for a brief moment.

“Yes, servin’ detention,” Hagrid said. “Thanks for meeting me. What was the matter you wanted to discuss, old friend?”

“Unicorns are disappearing from the forest,” said Firenze quietly.

Alice looked up at her large friend in confusion, but Hagrid only looked squeamish and pale as he closed a hand on Alice’s shoulder.  

“The unicorns are in trouble?” Alice asked the centaur, her voice hitching.

Firenze nodded, “unicorns are among the purest beings in our world. They are creatures of immense power- which is why they are kept here for safety. But… I fear that they may soon be gone if something is not done quickly. Come, follow.” Hagrid looked down at Alice and squeezed her shoulder.

“It’ll be alrigh’, Alice,” he said, and they walked together as Firenze lead them to a clearing about a quarter mile further into the forest. These woods were very, very old. It made Alice wonder what secrets hid beneath the roots and the fog and the darkness.

When they came to the clearing, it gave way to a small ambling creek, and drinking from the creek was a singular silvery white unicorn. It was like a storybook come to life- it was like seeing a ghost, or an angel.

The unicorn’s coat was glossy and its mane was a darker silvery lavender. The crystalline horn on its head spiraled upwards- catching the sun and casting the most marvelous colors across the grass. Even the air around this place seemed lighter- more pure. The fog dissipated around the clearing and the sun broke through the trees glancing off of the surface of the water, casting rainbows of light here and there.

Alice’s breath was stolen away and tears filled her eyes.

 _Never in her life did she ever think she would see a unicorn._  

“There,” said Firenze quietly, motioning to the unicorn who had lowered its head to drink from the stream. “Few know her name, but she is the gentlest being that lives in the wood. I believe some terrible tragedy has befallen her. The nightingales have been singing funeral songs about a fallen mare ever since early this morning.”

Alice took a breath in, and looked up at Hagrid. “Can I talk to her?”

Hagrid nodded with an understanding twinkle in his eyes. Alice thanked Firenze, and approached the unicorn slowly as tears ran down her cheeks. The unicorn paused, and raised her head to look back at Alice.

“Hello,” she whispered, so as not to alarm her, and waved with one mitted hand. “My name is Alice.”

“Izaryah,” she told her. Her voice sounded feather soft. “You have a special gift, young witchling- communing with nature is a rare talent.”

 _Communing with nature? Is that what it is?_ She filed the information away. This beautiful creature was older than she could possibly know- Alice was positive that she had seen the likes of her talent before. So many questions swirled in her mind, but they would have to wait. 

“They say that sometimes,” she told her with a small smile. “To be honest, I can’t believe my eyes right now.”

“They say that sometimes,” Izaryah chuckled without humor. “You have questions, do you not?”

“Yes, I- we, well, we’ve heard… that your kinsfolk are disappearing from the forest and we wondered... why.” The unicorn whinnied and snorted at this.

“They are,” she said, her voice mournful, “my sister Etheyr was attacked by a fiend. A demon with a lust for unicorn blood. Horace and Fern were killed last week,” her voice wavered. “I trampled the monster underfoot when I saw it upon her like a common leech, but he got away- and it was too late; my sister. My sweet, sweet sister is gone- forever.”     

“I’m so sorry,” Alice whispered, feeling the tears pool in her eyes again. If something like that had happened to Tally, she didn't know what she would do. The unicorn approached, her eyes big and blue like a star-filled dusk, and she rested her cheek on Alice’s. She could feel the unicorn’s magic soothing her sadness, but it only made her cry even more. Throwing her arms around the creature’s neck, she sobbed. This selfless being thought not of her own tremendous loss, but of the sadness of others. In that moment, Alice resolved to protect the unicorns from the monster that hunted them- if it was the last thing she did.

After Alice told Firenze and Hagrid what had become of Izaryah’s sister, the unicorn took them all to the place where her sister had been slain among the roots of an ash tree. Hagrid took off the red hat he wore on his head, and hung his head. Firenze approached Etheyr with a hand outstretched and placed it on her flank as he got a closer look at her injuries. Her neck was punctured and covered in silver blood- like mercury. Alice kept one hand on Izaryah’s neck to comfort her as she shook.

“Firenze, what is doing this?" Hagrid asked gruffly.

"A human being," Firenze answered darkly. "This is the work of your sort, witchling."

Alice felt all of the blood run out of her face. 

"What can we do about this?” Hagrid asked, kneeling down next to Etheyr. “If somethin’s suckin’ the blood out of unicorns-”

“We’ll protect them,” said Firenze resolutely with a snarl as he pulled away from Izaryah's little sister. “We will never suffer another litch in these woods again.”

“A litch?” Alice asked.

“A litch is a witch or wizard who wants to make him or herself immortal through the dark arts.” The unicorn paused, her voice wavering in fear, “drinking the blood of my kinsman will extend one’s life tenfold, however, the immortality they assume will be cursed forever.”

Their journey out of the wood gained much attention by creatures that opted to watch them from the shadows. After they bid farewell to Firenze and Izaryah (whom Alice promised to visit again as soon as she could), they returned to Hagrid’s hut just as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were making their way down the knoll nearest to the Quidditch pitch- likely to tell them news from the match. 


	12. Glad Tidings

In turns, Harry, Ron, and Hermione told Alice and Hagrid what had transpired that day over strong black tea back in the hut. Seemingly more important than the fact that Harry had won the match for Gryffindor by catching the snitch in his mouth was the fact the Snape had apparently tried to curse Harry’s broom.

“He did it, I swear.” Ron explained. “Hermione and I saw it. He was muttering something and he wouldn’t take his eyes off of him.”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid said staunchly. “Snape is a Hogwarts teacher- why would he do somethin’ like endangerin’ a student?”

All four of them exchanged knowing and pitying glances. Alice didn’t know what to say… but Harry spoke up first.

“We found something out about him,” he said. “He tried to get past the three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We’re positive that he’s trying to steal whatever it’s hiding.”

Hagrid nearly dropped the teapot in his hands, and Alice whipped out her wand, “wingardium leviosa!” She said flicking her wrist, and the teapot slowed and began to ascend slowly up into Hagrid’s hand. He looked bewildered and he took it.

“I spoke to the cerberus, Hagrid. They’re telling the truth. Snape and Quirrell were in the turret room on Halloween, and they were fighting with each other.”

He shook his head, “how did you know about Fluffy?”

_“Fluffy?”_

“Quite so, he’s my beastie. I bought him off a Greek chap I meat in the pub las’ year. Leant him to Dumbledore I guard the--” Hagrid trailed off, and they all leant towards him, eyes sparkling with interest.

“Yes?” Harry said eagerly.

“Don’t ask me anymore,” said Hagrid sternly. “That’s top secret information.”

“But Snape might be trying to steal it!”

“Codswallop,” said Hagrid with conviction. “Snape is a Hogwarts teacher, he’d never!”

“So why would he try to kill Harry?” Hermione cried, looking positively vexed. “His broom was jinxed- I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep constant eye contact, Hagrid- and he _wasn’t_ blinking!”

Hagrid shook his head hotly, “yer wrong, I’m tellin’ ya- I dunno why Harry’s broom was actin’ like it was jinxed, I didn’t see it myself- but yer meddlin’ in things that don’t concern yeh. It’s dangerous stuff, so you better forget about Fluffy and whatever he’s guardin’. That’s between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel-”

“Aha!” Harry said, clapping his hands together. “There’s someone called Nicholas Flamel involved, is there?”

Hagrid looked utterly furious with himself.

 

November drove through the highlands like a sharpened knife, and before Alice knew it, mid-winter had fallen upon the castle and with it, blankets of snow.

The Weasley twins had pulled her aside on her way to the owlery to send Thalia a small bag of gingerbread men she’d taken from supper the night before to involve her in their mischievous hijinx which consisted of bewitching snowballs to follow Quirrell around. It was a simple enchantment and they had a bit of a jolly watching him stumble through the snow to avoid getting pelted. In the owlery, Hagrid was administering a potion to the birds inside- more than half of which had delivering parcels and letters and looked a little worse for wear from flying in the cold. Alice, of course, offered to help him before sending her package off with a small barn owl who looked spry enough to take it.

If Christmastime was magical in the muggle world, it was doubly so at Hogwarts. The Great Hall was a marvel to behold with its roaring fire and the enchanted ceiling with often snowed while the floating candles overhead were placed in frosted glass globes- so that they emitted a soft warm light. They were still decorating and had not set up the tree yet, it seemed. She wondered if they would take one from the Forbidden Forest.

The corridors, however, was bitter cold. It was more obvious to her than ever that the twentieth century had not come to Hogwarts school and it had Alice layering her uniform with big chunky sweaters, warm hats, and thick woolen stockings from home- especially when she ventured to the dungeon for potions class.

Snape’s classroom was by far was the chilliest and least pleasant- much like the man himself. She had hoped that his offering to help them with the potion had added another facet to the man, but it seemed that he was only interested in seeing the outcome of their experiment- for the better or worse.

Malfoy, however, had become more adamant about picking on Harry after he aided in  Slytherin’s defeat as the weeks drew on- and found few to humor with his jibes, so he resorted to making fun of him for not having a proper family. Alice did her best not to shoot him with a few glares of her own, but Harry stopped her.

“Don’t,” he said as he measured powdered spine of lionfish to add to the frothing dull grey potion. “It’s not worth it.”

She turned back to him, “I’m sorry, Harry.”

He shook his head, “I’m better off being here anyway.” He told her. “You’ve seen what the Dursleys are like.”

“Yes,” Alice replied, grinding the dried wings of laceflies in her mortar. “I’m glad you aren’t going back, but… I wish… well…”

Harry smiled, “Don’t worry- Ron, Fred, and George are staying, so I won’t be completely alone.”

When the four of them emerged from potions, they nearly ran into a large fir tree which was accompanied by a gruff puffing noise.

“Hagrid!” Alice cheered.

“Need some help, there?” Ron asked him.

“Alice. Nah, I’m alright- thanks, Ron.”

“Would you _mind_ not being a hinderance for _once?_ ” Malfoy demanded from behind them. “Trying to earn some extra money Weasley? I expect you’d want to be a gamekeeper after you graduate. That hut of his must be a luxury compared to what you’re used to-”

Ron’s face melted into one of fury and was on Malfoy in a second- just as Snape ascended the stairs. “WEASLEY!”

Ron released Malfoy’s cloaks begrudgingly and Snape took five house points from Gryffindor even though it was obvious that he had been provoked. It was cruel. Alice patted his back comfortingly as he fumed, muttering affirmations. Sagely, Hagrid decided that they needed a little holiday cheer, so he took them into the Great Hall where Professor McGonagall and Flitwick were hanging the Christmas decor.  

It looked like something out of a dream. Red velvet ribbons adorned garlands of mistletoe and holly hung on the walls while twelve beautiful Christmas trees were nearly finished being decorated. Some of the trees were decorated with candles and others with icicles. Fire and ice. Alice would have to come back with her camera; she still had a few polaroids left.

Fortunately, Hermione had the good sense to remind them that they were supposed to be trying to figure out the identity of Nicholas Flamel much to Hagrid’s chagrin. They hurried off to the library.

“We could be searching for this Flamel fellow for year and never find anything,” Alice sighed as she flipped through her fifth book that day. “Maybe we should ask for help.”

“What?” Ron asked, looking up from his copy of _Notable Magic Names of Our Time_.

“If anyone knew what we were looking for, we might get reported,” Hermione whispered, frowning. “We have to go at this alone. Be patient, we're bound to find something on him eventually.”

 

Suffice it to say... they didn’t.

 

On the day that students returning to London were to leave for the station, August Lemons approached Alice as she was flipping through a book of magical artifacts in the Hufflepuff common room alone, hoping to stumble upon Nicholas Flamel’s name somewhere in its dry crackly pages. She'd been packed since that morning, and she was quite eager to go home to see her family. 

“Alice, do you have a moment? I have a question to ask you,” August said, taking a seat in the stuffed yellow chair adjacent to her. She looked up from her book, set it aside, and grinned at him. His hair looked uncharacteristically coiffed today and he was holding a brown paper parcel in his hands.

“Of course! What’s the matter?”

“Well,” he began. “I know you’re only a first year, but you _are_ a girl-”

She nodded, “last I checked.”

“Course,” August said, “erm, there’s this girl that I like- and well, I don’t know how to tell her. I… I got her a present- and well... “

“Does she know? Have you talked to her before?” Alice asked him.

“I don’t think she’s picked up on it, but we have been talking for a few weeks or so. Erm,” he held out his gift which had been very poorly wrapped in brown paper and tied off with a bit of red string. It looked… not very festive. “I wanted to wrap it myself, but… it didn’t turn out very well.”

“How thoughtful, August- do you mind?”

August shrugged, “be my guest.”

Alice unwrapped the gift carefully and drew out a very elegant looking black box, which looked far fancier than his wrapping job suggested. Gently, Alice set the box on her lap and took off the cover to reveal a black velvet choker with a beautiful emerald pendant, and it was very pretty.

“Oh, that’s so pretty! Who is it for?”

“Sylvia Riddleman, fifth year- Slytherin. Hence the green.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Alice assured him, putting the lid back on the box. “Hmm, but I think it needs a little something… wait here a moment.”

August blinked at her as she handed him the box and went upstairs to find one of the last care boxes she’d received from home and took out a piece of folded Christmas paper decorated with glittery evergreen trees that mum had used to wrap her new copy of _The Tales of Beedle and the Bard_ and took it downstairs so that she could wrap August’s gift in it.

The older boy helped her with an adhesion spell as she folded seam after seam until the necklace was properly wrapped. At least now, it looked much better than it had before. As a finishing touch, she tied it off with its original red ribbon and handed it to him.

“Thank you- but, what should I say?”

Alice chewed on her lip, “well, maybe tell her how you feel?”

“But what if she... “ August sighed, slumping in his chair with the gift in his hands. “Perhaps you’re still a bit young to understand.”

“I probably am,” Alice agreed. “I would be nervous, too, but I think… if you follow your heart, you’ll say the right thing. You’re a really nice person, August. She’d be bananas not to like you.”

He chuckled patting her cheek, “you’re sweet. Perhaps so. Right, well...” August straightened with a huff and got to his feet. “Here goes nothing. And- thank you for the wrapping paper, Alice.”

Later on, when all students leaving Hogwarts for the holidays had all convened at train stop with their trunks, Alice caught sight of August standing with a pretty girl in the hubbub. His gift must have gone over well the girl was wearing it as she held his hand and leaned her head on his shoulder. Alice grinned from ear to ear as she waved at him. He saw her and  flashed that dazzling smile of his with a wink and a subtle thumbs up.

 

The week preceding Christmas in the Silverstone house was filled with gingerbread houses, Christmas lights, green garland decked with golden pinecones and bright red berries, the scent of hot toddy in the air, carolers, and snow. So much snow. They’d waited for her to come home to decorate the beautiful little fir tree dad had found in a little tree lot thirty minutes away. They decorated it with golden baubles, warm golden string lights, and a great red velvet ribbon which topped the tree with a giant bow.

With equal parts excitement and displeasure, Christmas Eve alighted on their front stoop like a gift and a curse. Tonight was the evening of Christmas dinner at the Malfoy's estate and Alice would have rather been anywhere else.

Like Hagrid's hut sharing Christmas tea and biscuits... or freezing her extremities off in the Forbidden Forest if it meant she could talk to Izaryah again.

Instead, she stood in front of the floor length mirror in her bedroom and let out a sigh as she inspected herself sourly. The dark green velvet dress came down to her knees, and the sateen white lace cuffs at the end of long bishop sleeves and the same white sateen in the form of a peter pan collar made her look like a Madame Alexander doll. Her dark hair had been curled and pinned into place with bobby pins and a red velvet hair ribbon.

It was horrendous.

Her red, green, and white reindeer stockings were itchy and her Mary Janes were fresh out of the box. The shiny black patent leather dug mercilessly into her feet. She could hardly even wiggle her toes.

That’s not to say that Thalia didn’t have it worse. She wore a wool dark green turtleneck and a red overall dress with gold thread embroidered reindeer and fir trees. She wore red and green striped stockings, black mary janes, and a green hair ribbon. They looked like the inverted versions of each other.

Their mum and dad had been arguing about the Malfoy holiday party since yesterday and Bentley, who hated noise, had become quite scarce. Alice was sure that he couldn’t wait for them to leave. Thalia was glum as she sat on the chest at the end of her bed, whereas Alice had sunk to the floor in a rather unladylike fashion.

“I hate this,” Alice mumbled, covering her ears with her hands.

“They’ve been fighting a lot since you left,” Thalia said with a sigh. “I thought it might have been because of me, but now I know it’s not.”

Alice nodded her head towards the open door and they quietly tiptoed out of the room and crawled on their stomachs to press their cheeks through the railing.

“Cassandra, I don’t know what you want me to say- it’s not right to lie to the girls,” their father murmured, his voice just barely audible as they slunk quietly down step by step until they could hear a bit better.  

“What would you have me do, William? Tell them everything? The damage it would do-”

“I’m not _saying_ that we should tell them everything, _now,_ ” their father replied curtly. “Simply that we need to tell them the _truth_. If we build all of our relationships on lies, imagine what a bad influence that would be.”

“You know why I have to keep them secret.”

“Then why would you put us all in danger now?” He demanded.

“ _The closer you are to danger, the farther you are from harm._ The less they know, the better.”

“What do you suppose it means?” Tally asked.

Alice chewed on her bottom lip, recalling that mum had gone into hiding ten years ago because of the Dark Lord and his followers who only wanted pureblood witches and wizards to practice magic at Hogwarts School. She’d always told Tally everything, but something stopped her from telling her this.

“I don’t know,” she said instead.

Tally let out a sigh. “Looks like we’re gonna have to break them up. C’mon.” Grabbing her sister’s hand, she pulled Alice to her feet, and stomped down the stairs and into the living room with a big, happy grin on her face. “We’re ready!”

They found their parents red faced in the sitting room with tea and cake between them. Fruitcake. From gran. Alice found herself cringing at the thought of having to eat it on Christmas morning. It was nice of mum and dad to head it off even if they were fighting at the moment.

“Look how beautiful my girls are!” their father grinned, his frustration dissolving in an instant as he set his teacup down hurried over to embrace the two of them in a bear hug. Their father wore his plaid oxford shirt under a green cable sweater with beige gray slacks. “We were just about to collect you. Shall we shove off?”

“If we must,” Alice sighed, rolling her eyes. The prospect of spending the evening with the Malfoys did not delight her in the least.

“Attitude,” their mother smiled chidingly, crouching down in front of them in her pretty red Christmas dress. “You both look very pretty. Let’s get your coats- hurry now, we don’t want to be late!”

Once they’d all gathered in the living room, the mood shifted.

“Now,” she said. “I want you all to understand that the Malfoys are an old wizarding family, and what that means... is that they are not really inclined to appreciate or understand the muggle way of life. Nevertheless, I would like you to be on your best behavior as you would in anyone else’s home, am I clear?”

“Yes, mum,” the girls said at once. Alice a little more begrudgingly.

“Darling,” mum said, now addressing their father. “I’ve told Sissy about us, she’s asking Lucius not to ask any questions regarding... well, you know.”

“Right,” their dad said stiffly. “But if he does, I’ll be ready.”

She patted his cheek and kissed him on the cheek. Alice and Tally looked at each other, wrinkling their noses and stuck their tongues out. _Gross._

“Alright, everyone- grab on,” mum said, reaching out for dad’s hand and Tally’s. Alice completed the circle. “We’re going to aparate. It’s a much faster way to travel than car or broom. You must hold on very tightly and under no circumstance should you let go.”

Once they did- gripping a little harder than probably necessary, mum spoke again. “Take a deep breath and-”

With a nearly inaudible _pop_ and in a whirling of lights, colors, and sounds, they were deposited by some invisible magical force onto a lightly snowed on road in front of a large and intimidating wrought-rod gate.

“Welcome to Whiltshire,” mum said.


End file.
